


Strange Thing Found

by StarWitch (Witchofthestars)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Elf/Human Relationship(s), Escapisim, Feels, Fluff, Light Adventure, Magic, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Tropes, this is foR ME
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchofthestars/pseuds/StarWitch
Summary: A mischievous demon taking enjoyment out of twisting the fates of mortals takes a hardened warrior and drops him in the most unlikeliest of places, all in the hopes of causing a bit of amusing chaos.For Iorveth its a desperate search for a way back home and the people he must lead.For a witch called Jo its a massive disruption to her perfectly planned life.
Relationships: Iorveth (The Witcher)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 103





	1. Demons Grin

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a bit of fluff in my life as I'm sure we all do right now. So with time on my hands, I'm finally taking this story idea that I've been sitting on for a long time now and bringing it to life. The full story is planned out and I'm quite satisfied with it. Please be kind in your reviews, we could all use a bit of it these days. I enjoy chatting back and forth and love to hear your own ideas so if theres something fluffy you want our favorite elf husbando to find himself awkwardly having to do as the story progresses, I will always try to find a way to fit it in.  
> Side note, i'm a big comma user, run on sentence maker, and smutty nonsense writer so as long as these things dont bother you, I think we'll get on just fine.  
> Enjoy my loves!

* * *

* * *

A long sigh, one that spoke of the deep suffering of endless boredom, whispered into the night.

For all appearances it was a lively night in the streets of Vizima, as lively as they had ever been since the war. The Nilfgaard Empire was well and truly ingrained into everyday life now as florins were exchanged for Nilfgaardian vodka or tossed around in games of Nilfgaardian chance. Bards sang songs from a country they’d never visited but learned out of necessity for it meant coin from the inflow of looking to take advantage of war torn citizens.

Black clothing with overzealous accessories had become all the rage and were out in grand fashion for the festival marking the five years since Emperor Emhyr var Emreis rode into Temeria astride a mighty black stallion.

His military took the wicked Temerians’ well in hand and sought to beat the wickedness right out of them. Those with loud protestations were silenced. Prestigious name nor coin could save them from the White Flame’s black heart and old, proud Temerian names were hung from the same gallows as the peasants who once served them.

With each execution, with every sack of a tavern or shop, or house set afire, the Temerians learned. They donned the black. They sang the songs. And they drank the Vodka.

They accepted the Imperial invasion.

But from her perch above the crowded streets, Eris waited.

She knew which houses hid white lilies beneath their floorboards. Or mourned the loss of their slain king with whispers filled with pained nostalgia.

Eris even knew which silly mortals held the spark of rebellion deep within their heart.

She waited and hoped that just one of them would entertain her by marking the occasion with a brilliant show of uprising.

She wanted a rain of arrows striking soldiers in black, or assassins slipping from the shadows to slit the throats of the emperor’s favorite governors as they gave pretty speeches.

Or perhaps Eris wanted to see the small folk rise up with pitchforks and torches only to be razed to the ground with flashing steel and snapping bones.

Not that the broken Temerians didn’t deserve it. They had their own history of cruelty and genocide powered by racism and hatred to account for.

Her sigh of boredom was replaced by a high-pitched giggle at the mere thought of the chaotic excitement. She laughed to images of blood flowing through the dirty gutters and the feast the carrion would gorge on until her sides hurt and she had to lay back on a roof beginning to smell of rotted wood.

Her laughter dying down, Eris bit her wildly grinning bottom lip with pointed teeth and watched the smoke from the nearby chimney spiral into the night sky. Stars of various color and size shimmered invitingly. Stars that warmed countless planets, some alive with many interesting walks of life- many of which had found their way here, some empty and on the verge of collapse.

It had been some time since she played one of her favorite games, dropping an unsuspecting soul on one of those lifeless rocks and watching from afar to see how long they survived. Most didn’t last a week, but there had been one such fellow that lived long enough for the nearby star to burn the planet from around him in a spectacular display.

The sigh was back.

Eris was unbearably bored.

These people were too complicit for her taste. She liked beings full of fire and rage. Ones that vowed to cleave mountains in two if it meant realizing their wants and desires… usually those goals were of selfish gains or revenge but still… the passion was there, and that was what she craved.

She’d missed the opportunity to sow the seeds of chaos here in this broken city, she could see that now as the guards surveyed the citizens with cold stares and they were likewise watched with wretched fear.

There was only one thing for it.

Back to a tried and true treat for herself.

Pluck a poor sod from their comfortable and homey hearth and plop them on some forsaken planet and watch as they struggle to find an untainted river to slake their thirst. Or throw themselves from the nearest cliff in the attempt to end it all only for her to set them back on their feet unharmed.

They hated it when she did that, but it amused her endlessly to listen to their curses flung into the empty sky. Curses that to her ears were words of honor rather than damnation, but then again, she liked to think she was easy to please.

Excitement beginning to thrum through her blood, Eris sat up once more and rested her pointed elbows on pointed knees and watched.

Searching.

Hunting.

There was the butcher with his round belly and scarred face eyeing the prostitute across the alley displaying her impressive bosoms as she leaned out of a window. Perhaps the prostitute would be fun to watch…

Shaking her head, Eris recalled that she’d already done that several times over. One particular woman had survived for longer than expected but had fallen to the freezing temperatures eventually. The butcher however looked as if he wouldn’t last two days and in such a short amount of time, Eris was certain to find herself just as she was now.

Facing an eternity of dullness.

She wanted a challenge. Wanted to find someone who was an obvious survivor and leave them in a place sure to crush them in the most entertaining of ways.

Ah- there…

A flash of white hair stood out from the others. Wide shoulders in worn leather armor with two swords belted across the back. Heads turned to watch as the tall man- no _mutant_ , made his way through the crowds. Women showed a bit more shoulder and men straightened their slouched backs, each for varying reasons.

This particular breed of butcher was a survivor. Eris could taste his strength in the air. His wit and unrelenting stubbornness that would demand he outlive whatever she could throw at him until… again she grew bored.

She suspected this lovely specimen would even survive in the home world of the vampires.

She liked this fellow, admired him from afar much like the crowd watching him go on. But she wanted someone who would but up a brilliant fight, but eventually succumb to something other than a super nova.

Again, she’d already enjoyed that show.

So, if the white wolf wouldn’t do then…

Eris’s eyes lit up with glee.

From the opposite end of the alley, the crowd was parting, just as it did for the wolf- only rather than glances of admiration and curiosity the expressions were filled with contempt.

A squirrel who was more like a panther in the way he moved with a glowering prowl.

Oh, such a proud tilt to his chin as he stalked fearlessly through those that would rather see him gutted and quartered than share the same side of the alley with him. All scars, sharp edges, and old blood.

The panther with the single green eye met the wolf with a clasp of the arm and a nod of his chin before following the crowd into a near tavern.

Eris slipped between the folds of time and space and reappeared high in the rafters of the rowdy tavern. The smoke of tobacco and a medley of other herbs lifted towards her, but didn’t cover the stench of poorly made brews, unwashed bodies, and the unsavory scent food acquires when its sat out too long.

The two arguably most interesting beings in the city took over a table near her perch, signaling for a pitcher of ale and bowls of greasy stew.

With a yawn, Eris listened as they caught up on their travels, the wolf on his way to winter in his vineyard after a summer of slaying monsters while the panther admit that he was neck deep in rebuilding the squirrel outpost hidden beneath the city.

“The supply line from Nilfgaard is lucrative and painfully easy to take.”

“Be wary that. Sounds like they mean to trap you.”

A scoff cut the air.

“Do you take me as some wet behind the ears foot soldier Gwynbleidd? Of course they mean to trap me. They shall not of course. I will spare you the details in the spirit of your legendary… neutrality.”

“My thanks.” Came the dry reply.

“How are the winters in Toussaint? Now that you’ve acquired a vineyard to grow plump on.”

A grunt followed by a long drink before the witcher answered. “I have decent wine with every meal and wake every morning without fear of having lost my toes to frost or rats. Of course, a sorceress warms my bed. By the clench of your jaw, I’d say you could use a bit of that.”

“Distractions. I have warriors to lead and a people to bring back from the brink. Besides, you know I’d sooner feed the witches to the rats than let one into my bed.”

Thick ashen brows lifted above a hint of a smile. “I was talking of the wine but that too.”

Lips twisted into an unamused sneer before they became occupied with the meal.

Without a doubt, Eris had her victim. But this one was different. A silly planet on the edge of existence wouldn’t break this beastie.

Rubbing her hands eagerly with a wicked grin revealing her sharp teeth, her mind raced.

It would take something creative to bring this panther to his knees.

* * *

* * *


	2. Odd Day Indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're safe and have everything you need. I cant do much to get you some toilet paper so instead have a chapter from me to feed your fanfic needs and introduce you to Jo. I'm really liking her and excited for you guys to get to know her and journey along as she grows over the course of the story. Let me know your thoughts and remember to be kind to one another. Love yall <3

* * *

* * *

_“How about this early morning fog? It goes perfect with those leaves just beginning to change colors don’t it? Well here at the 96.7 Morning Joe Show we’ve got a treat for you that will put every early bird in a fine mood as you folks-“_

A sleepy hand slapped the snooze button before Joe Reese could tell his morning listeners what treat he had in store for them. Jo- different from Joe as she constantly must remind her students- snuggled deeply into her pillow, gladly taking the extra five minutes of sleep. Her dream had been full of wicked fae, gallant knights of old, and magical queens. Her role had been royal scribe tasked with recording Ser Wolframs’ adventures and falling into deep passionate affection as she rode at his side from merry quest to merry quest.

And as all enjoyable dreams went, old Joe’s voice always interrupted just as Ser Wolfram swept her up for an embrace filled with passion after slaying a fearsome monster.

So, with eyes stubbornly closed, Jo urged her dream to come back to her.

Instead, the tickle of whiskers brushing her cheek followed by the feel of heavy kitty cat footsteps across her back confirmed that it was too late. She had an impatient mouth to feed and a long day to get started.

“Good morning to you too Asher.” Jo mumbled when her black cat gave a sleepy meow from his perch on her back. Slowly, and with a long yawn, she turned, maneuvering Asher as she went until he laid on her stomach. He didn’t stay long however as he hopped to the floor with long eyed looks and demanding meows.

Meows that only got more demanding as she slowly rolled from her warm quilts, slipped on baby blue slippers and a matching robe before stumbling after her cats impatiently swishing tail.

“You’d think I never feed you.” Jo peeled open a can of pungent cat food, shook it into the bowl with ‘Asher’ painted by hand around the outside surface, and watched ruefully as the animal dived in as if it were his first meal in a week.

“You’re most welcome. Would you like a cup of coffee to go with that? No? Well more for me then.”

While the coffee maker warmed up and did its duty in brewing Jo’s life’s blood, she returned to her room to turn off her alarm clock for good this time and prepare for the day.

Friday for a schoolteacher, meant casual and wearing school sports team t shirts. With her toothbrush sticking out of the corner of her mouth, Jo tossed dark blue slacks along with a maroon t shirt with ‘Mustang Pride’ emblazoned on the back, onto her bed.

By the time the coffee finished brewing, her shirt was tucked in, comfortable sneakers tied, and light brown hair in a long braid down her back. After dumping sinful amounts of sugar and creamer along with a touch of coffee into a mug with ‘Have a Witchy Day’ on the side, Jo sat with a pleased sigh.

A now fully satisfied Asher stretched out on the small kitchen table while Jo sipped the sugary drink and checked her messages.

“Evelyn was up till one am again it seems. She demands that we catch up on Great British Bakeoff.” She flicked her amber colored gaze to see Asher snoozing. “I’ll add it to the plans tonight. Zack sent a picture this morning of Rose and her gigantic belly. Four months for them go so I guess it’ll get even bigger. I’ll remind him that he’s supposed to be naming that baby after me.”

As she worked on her coffee, she thought about the upcoming art show her elementary students were working hard on and smiling at some of the projects that were not so much masterpieces but full of imagination just the same.

Once done with her coffee she worked on preparing a thermos to carry into her classroom with her but a sudden feeling as if she were being watched sent a cold shiver down her spine, giving her pause. She glanced around her small apartment watching for anything out of place.

Asher continued his nap on her table, various plants hung from macramé hanging from the ceiling, her tv remained dark, and lace curtains drawn over windows. The apartment was quiet and still. Shrugging off the feeling, Jo finished up her task, pecked Asher on his sleepy head before plucking up her phone, keys, and whisked out the door.

Morning Joe had been right, the lingering mist was a nice touch to the early autumn morning, and Jo couldn’t resist closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath of the crisp air before dodging back inside to slip on a grey cardigan.

The ocean side town of Willow was sprawling and quaint and full of typical small-town personality. There was much it had to offer from its mom and pop businesses to the still brand-new McDonalds by the single screen theater.

In Jo’s case it meant she had a short walk to work on weather friendly mornings with familiar faces nodding hello… and fresh baked muffins on the way. She bought two, one banana nut and one chocolate chip.

A wisp of intuition slipped through the back of her mind and she smiled and waited.

“Jo! Hey Jojo!” The familiar voice of her best friend called from behind when she’d stopped at one of the last crosswalks before reaching the Willow elementary.

“Morning Zack.” Jo said and held out the chocolate chip muffin grinning at the man she’d been friends with since diapers as he joined her.

“Hmm, its almost like you knew you’d be seeing me. Unless…” Zack sent her a mischievous grin as they crossed to the next sidewalk. “Did you actually buy this for that new guy, but I showed up and you knew it was my favorite and that I woke up late and didn’t have time to eat breakfast so you took pity on me and now I’ve ruined your chances with Mr. Hottie Music Teacher?”

Jo elbowed him in the side. “Hardly. I just had one of those feelings.”

“Ah yes.” Zack caught her eye for a conspiratorial wink. “I know the feelings you speak of… your Spidey sense-“

“Zack!” Jo hissed with a quick glance to Ms. Lyle sweeping up the sidewalk as they walked past her hair salon. With a lowered voice, Jo continued. “And I don’t think Mr. Morgan is surprise-with a muffin-hot… he’s more wear-your-perfect-dress-and-learn-piano-in-order-to-impress hot.”

“So… does that mean you’ve signed up for lessons?”

Jo stopped before the door to the clinic Zack worked as a nurse at and gave him a warm smile. “Not at all. Mr. Morgan is nice to look at during staff meetings. But I am quite happy with the way things are. I have a very busy year of teaching kids to not eat paint, parents that are flighty and need to be watched over, a sister who needs help raising her twin daughters, Asher, Evelyn, Rose, you, little JoJo to soon be here, and a whole bunch of plants. I have a very full life Zack, and no intention of changing it up for a pair of pretty blue eyes.”

Zack shook his shaggy blond hair out of his blue eyes and blinked them prettily. “Even these blue eyes?”

Her laugh was genuine as she shook her head and turned to continue up the sidewalk to the elementary.

“One day JoJo! Someone is going to catch your notice and maybe his eyes won’t be blue... Like a breeze in a sail, he’ll catch you!” Zack called after her. “And we are not naming the baby after you!”

Her best friend’s matchmaking ways were quickly forgotten about as Jo threw herself headlong into the crush of kids vying for her attention. There were arguments over who got to use the pink paint, a glue shortage, and the utter destruction of a popsicle stick house. Lunch was spent making the rounds sticking straws in juice boxes and peeling oranges followed by escorting a shy kindergartener to the nurse for a bloody nose.

Finally, as the last car pulled away from the student pickup line, Jo felt her day slowdown and returned to her classroom to rinse paintbrushes and clean up shreds of construction paper. She adored her little art classroom… a room she remembered from when she was a student here. Twine zigzagged from wall to wall, filled with colorful paintings clipped up to dry. Easels lined one wall with another wall dominated by a large chalkboard in need of a good cleaning.

Her desk was cluttered but in an organized way that only she understood. Books on art lined a small bookshelf, paint stained jars were sitting in the windowsill to dry, and paper mâché creations hanging on the wall.

It was a room alive with color and during school hours a noisy bustle of childish laughter and nonstop chatter. But now that it was just her, silence followed her around until the sudden vibrating sound of her phone broke the silence.

A frown creased her brow. Ten times out of ten, Jo can sense the moment her phone receives any call or message, even to the point of who is calling or texting. But this call had completely snuck up on her. She was even more surprised to see she had six missed calls all from her mother.

Heart beating erratically with worry, she quickly accepted the call.

“Mom? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing sweet pea! In fact, nothing could be better! Dad and I have been trying to get ahold of you all day to tell you the good news.”

Relief rushed through Jo and she slouched down in her desk chair. “Good news? What’s up?”

“We won an all expense paid vacation to LA!”

“Uhh… how?”

“Really Josephine, you usually already know these things to the point of frustrating us!”

Jo squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate, to feel out the strings that linked fate. Her sister Charlie would send a text in less than fifteen seconds asking her to pick up some children’s Tylenol since one of the twins had a low-grade fever. Evelyn would pop up with a pizza to watch tv and eat dinner with her. And Asher would knock off her little cactus from the top of the microwave.

But nothing that hinted at what was going on with her parents. Clearing her throat, she shook off the unease. “Well go on then… Tell me all about it.”

“Well Dad called in to the Morning Joe Show and guessed the correct hometown of Willie Nelson. So tonight, we’re heading down to LA for not one but TWO weeks! Isn’t that exciting?”

Jo forced some excitement into her voice. “Of course, Mom… I mean tonight seems a bit sudden but… you and Dad have always talked about traveling more so I suppose here’s your start!”

“My thoughts exactly. So, we’re on our way to the airport in Seattle right now, would you mind watching the house? And taking the pumpkins to the harvest festival committee?”

“Oh. Sure!”

“I mean unless you already had plans…”

“Not at all Mom. I’ll go home, water the plants and pack up Asher and let myself in.”

“Righty O!”

“Mom… be safe and careful please?” Jo wanted to go into more depth of her concerns, but she hated to put a damper on her parents’ excitement.

“Of course! When are we not safe and careful?”

“Ummm how about when Dad decided-“

“Stop right there. I get your point.”

“Alright Mom. Call me when you get settled in the hotel.”

“Absolutely. Love you! Tootles!”

“Love you both.”

Jo hung up and tucked her phone away, preparing to lock up her classroom. Her Dad was once an adrenalin junky, on a small scale at least. Motorcycles, fast cars, fast boats… anything that could go fast that he could get his hands on within a fifty mile radius.

As a small town architect and farmer, he couldn’t go far, but he had plenty of buddies he could invite over when he was in need for something to make his blood rush. The sight of something sleek, shiny, and usually red parked in the grass had become a common sight over the course of her childhood and she would usually roll her eyes and continue on up to her room.

Like her Mom and sister, Jo did not see the appeal of living on the edge for even a moment. She didn’t even like the idea of riding a bike without gripping the handle bars. But, as Mom always mutters out of the corner of her mouth as they watched Dad zip down their long dirt road, at least he wasn’t jumping out of airplanes or climbing Mount Everest.

With a purpose to her step, Jo made the quick walk home. In no time at all she had watered the plants, packed up Asher and her laptop then locked up her place.

She never really officially moved out of her parents’ home, just rented an apartment and filled it with life over the years, leaving a double of everything at what she considered her true home. Chargers for her phone and laptop, clothes, toiletries… everything she needed, she had in both places.

She picked up Tylenol for her sister and replied to the anticipated text from Evelyn that she had an unexpected weekend at her parent’s house and that they would have to get together later on.

Charlie looked beautiful with her frazzled deep brown hair as she hugged Jo in thanks. Oliva, the older of her twin nieces at just four years old, looked like an exact copy of Charlie, but her usually rosy cheeks were pale and her brown eyes glassy. Sophia, the younger twin took her aunt Jo’s coloring, was sitting in the center of the kitchen table eating a yogurt.

“Olive! Soph!” Jo called out as Sophia waved with a yogurt smeared grin. Oliva’s smile was weak and it broke Jo’s heart but she dipped down to peck her warm brow with a kiss. While Charlie measured out medicine for Oliva, Jo plucked Sophia from the table and handed the child a paper towel.

“Wipe your chin. You look like Asher when he’s had a bowl of cream.”

Sophia giggled and began to meow instead of cleaning up her face.

“Thanks for running this over. I had Motrin, but I need to alternate with Tylenol to keep the fever gone.” Charlie said with a weary smile.

“I wish you would move back to the house… raising two four year olds alone cant be easy Charlie.”

Sadness flashed across her sister’s face before she stubbornly shook her head. “You know why I can’t. Anyways… what are you doing this weekend? Any dates?”

Jo rolled her eyes and moved to make her exit. “No. In fact I’m babysitting the house for a couple of weeks.”

“What? Why!”

Jo gave her a bewildered stare at her sister’s lack of knowledge of the whole ordeal. “Dad won a vacation for the two of them to go to LA.”

Charlie stared at her with wide eyes and scratched the back of her head. “LA. As in city of angels LA?”

“Los Angeles as I’ve also heard it commonly called. They should be hitting Seattle by now for an evening flight there.”

Hurt flashed across her little sister’s face. “They didn’t even tell me!”

Her family was very close, even more so after the loss of Charlie’s husband. She might not be able to stomach sleeping in her old room without being flooded by haunting memories of her soul mate, but she still took the girls out there often. It was strange to think that her parents had only told joe and not their little baby girl whom they doted on with a full ride to college and all expenses paid wedding.

She was certain that they were going to be paying those debts for decades to come with whatever they could get for that year’s crops.

“You and Mom tell each other everything. I know she calls you just to tell you that Roscoe brought home a half eaten squirrel. I don’t want to worry you, but this feels off to me… I didn’t have any intuition or guidance about it all. It came out of the blue for me.”

Charlie rubbed her hands up and down her arms and her gaze became haunted. She knew better than anyone that when Jo got one of her feelings, they had best listen to them.

“Do you think something bad is going to happen?”

Jo hid her look of unease by hugging Charlie close and forcing a smile into her voice. “I’m sure everything is fine. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from them and if I haven’t heard from them by midnight then I’ll peek into my crystal ball.”

Returning the hug tightly before pushing Jo back, Charlie gave a small smile that hinted of worry. “You’re not that kind of witch.”

“Sometimes I wish I was. But I’ll pull out the ole dusty grimoire and see if I can’t do a location spell or something.”

“Alright. I better get the mac and cheese going. Text me when you hear something.”

“Promise.”

The sun had nearly set by the time Jo and Asher wound up the dirt road to the house on the hill at the edge of her world. The trees were shadowy, the windows dark, but the dogs were excited to see her, as evident by the endless yapping while they ran alongside her little car.

Roscoe had one eye and had any definable breed bred out of him to the point where he was just medium reddish brown ‘dog.’ Sally however was a very proper border collie and could herd any animal in her charge, her humans included.

Asher gave a low growl from his carrier at the ruckus just beyond the car doors.

“Be nice Asher. Roscoe and Sally adore you and you adore them… you’ve just forgotten that in the five days since you were here last.” Jo said lightly to her cat as she parked the car and hopped out. She took a moment to greet the excited dogs, being sure to give them both equal rubs and saying their names with all the enthusiasm that she would her nieces. She opened Asher’s carrier just inside the front door and he zoomed out into the dark house, Roscoe and Sally giving friendly pursuit.

At that moment, Jo didn’t care what shenanigans the three got into for she had just one thing on her mind.

She was absolutely starving.

Flicking lights on and opening a few windows to let in the evening breeze as she went, Jo headed straight for the kitchen and began to dig around in cabinets and the freezer. She was sorely disappointed in her parent’s lack of groceries and more than slightly annoyed at them dropping everything and leaving her with house sitting duty but no food.

“They could have at least warned me to pick some up on my way out here.” She muttered to herself and pulled out a skillet to begin heating it up. If she was going to have to live off sandwiches for the night, it would at least be a fancy one with bacon and melted cheese.

With a wave of her hand she casually used magic to begin rinsing lettuce and tomatoes. Another wave and the music on her phone began to play and she hummed along.

She was thinking of calling Charlie to check on Olivia when a sudden crash sounded from the shed a few paces from the house.

At first, she ignored the commotion, figuring as Roscoe was about as graceful as a bull in a glass store and him knocking anything over was not unusual whatsoever.

Jo paused with a piece of bacon suspended above the frying pan and the music stopped.

Both dogs were supposed to be inside.

Dropping the bacon back in the package, Jo cautiously whistled for the dogs. When neither came, Jo straightened her spine and pushed back her apprehension before entering the living room. The sight of three fury bodies curled up together beneath the coffee table, watching her with wide eyes and shaking bodies had fear flooding Jo with full force. If Sally was frightened, then Jo knew she damned better be too.

Within a blink she had her phone in hand only to find it completely dead. Another blink and her parents’ cordless phone they still insisted was necessary replaced her useless one. Again… dead.

“Oh, what the _fuck_ is going on?” Jo couldn’t resist the panic rising in her voice. Nor could she ignore the sound of glass breaking deeper into the house. “Think… think… you’re a resourceful and plucky country girl with a bit of magic… a simple thief shouldn’t be too difficult…” Jo whispered to herself as she slipped back into the kitchen. She knew how to use a rifle for hunting but that was locked away in the thief’s side of the house.

Hesitantly she picked up a knife and her stomach rolled at the thought of having to use it.

Instead she left it in a spot where she could easily run back to if this burglary escalated to severe. Shoving her hands into flower print oven mitts, Jo hefted the skillet and held it high before stepping as carefully as she could across the old hardwood floors.

The board right before the study was a squeaker so Jo made certain to hug the opposite wall. Memories of her and Charlie avoiding that board as they snuck out to go midnight swimming helped Jo through some of her fear.

A noise to her left alerted her that the intruder was in her room. She peeked through the slight opening of her door and there- a dark shadow bent over her dresser. Drawers and their contents were scattered around the thief.

Swallowing tightly before holding her breath, Jo eased open the door leaving it wide in case she had to make a run for the knife. She wasn’t terribly athletic, but she did enough manual labor around the farm with the occasional yoga routine so surely that meant she could outrun a clumsy thief long enough to hit the kitchen…

The figure suddenly straightened sending renewed shards of panic shooting through Jo. Thinking quickly, she cast a small spell in the far corner hoping to cause a distraction. Flames engulfed her desk chair, drawing the thief’s attention just as she hopped.

Quickly before she lost her nerve she stepped just in reach, gripping the iron handle as tightly as her mitt covered hands could manage, raised the skillet even higher- fuck this asshole was tall- and just like she remembered Charlie doing when on the softball team, swung as fast and hard as she could.

The force of the skillet cracking into the side of the thief’s head sent painful vibrations up her arms, causing Jo to drop the pan just as fast as the thief crumbled onto her floor. Hissing, she shook the mitts off, letting them join the pan on the floor by her feet.

A nauseating mixture of emotions swam through Jo as she magically extinguished the fire on her ruined chair and turned on all the lights in the room instead. Relief, a good deal of pride, apprehension, and frustration at the loss of her chair.

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes when a moment later, three furry bodies rushed into the room. “Really, I could have used this kind of support from the beginning!” Asher jumped to sit in the center of her bed while the two dogs sniffed around the prone figure.

A very oddly dressed figure with some helluva weaponry strapped all over him.

“Are those _swords_ as in two of them _?”_ Joe whispered, bending down to look closer. She couldn’t place the clothing type… lots of green, lots of leather, and lots of belts. A massive bow with a quiver full of feather fletched arrows. “This stuff looks… legit. Like straight out of medieval Europe. Who is this guy?”

She reached to grasp his shoulder when she noticed the odd shape of the ear poking out from black shaggy hair.

Next, she saw the blood.

Panic roared its nasty head within her again, only this time it was out of fear for the intruder… she hadn’t wanted to seriously injure or kill the jerk, only stop them, truss them up and go for help. Now there was a pool of blood spreading out from the oddly dressed man with oddly shaped ears and enough weaponry to supply a renaissance faire.

“Hold on mister-“ Jo grasped the leather clad shoulder and tried to turn him over so she could look for the wound.

She was saved the effort as quick as a cat, the thief twisted some, wrapped a hand in the front of her t shirt and pushed her back against the dresser as he stood fluidly. Dogs yelped and darted from the room, but she could scarcely blame them.

Breath locked in her chest; Jo found herself face to face with her thief.

An oddly dressed man, with oddly shaped ears, a deep scar pulling at the edge of lips before disappearing beneath a dark red bandanna. And a single green eye glaring at her with blood dripping down the corner of it.

Something cold dug into her throat followed by a prick of pain.

Dazedly, Jo realized that he’d pressed a knife to her throat. Even now that she was moments from dying, the irony was not lost on her.

* * *

* * *

Across the endless sea of stars on a beautiful planet constantly trying to destroy itself, Jaskier lifted his head from the stump it had been pressed against. “Uhh… Geralt? Zoltan? Where did Iorveth go? He was just threating to slice off my ears was he not?”

Zoltan and Geralt looked up from the rabbit they were about to take from the spit. They were travelling to the edges of the old Temeria border before splitting up for the season. Jaskier to Novigrad, Geralt to Toussaint, Zoltan and Iorveth to intercept Nilfgaardian supplies. And it had been as the poet had said. He’d annoyed the Scoia’tael commander to the point of violence.

But now…

Geralt calmly focused and swept his gaze across the small camp. There were four horses still unsaddled and tied to various trees. The elf’s small supply pack was still where he had dropped it, the only things missing were his weapons and the elf himself.

There were no footprints leading away from the camp. No scent trail. Nothing.

Iorveth had disappeared into thin air.

* * *

* * *


	3. Traveler

* * *

* * *

With a weakness trembling through his hand enraging him far more than Geralt’s irritating bard, Iorveth spit the taste of bile from his mouth and wiped his lips. A new wave of dizziness rolled through his chest, down his neck and into his chest, making his body feel unbearably warm and heavy.

Even in the darkness he felt the world tilt beneath his feet, and he stumbled backwards, crashing into something that failed to catch his weight. A lifelong familiar sharpness of pain lanced through his shoulder from his back, the iron of blood taking over the taste of bile.

For a moment, he just laid there sprawled over where he’d fallen, bleeding and ill, he closed his eye and pushed back his frustration and confusion. His mind kept trying to circle around onto whatever happened to thrust him into this dark place and caused such a violent reaction within him… but he didn’t have time to think over what happened, not now. He had to get his body under his control and keep it there.

Then he could see to his wound and finally assess the situation and a means to resolve it.

When the flashing spots finally ceased from behind his closed lid, Iorveth slowly opened his eye, allowing a moment to adjusted to the deep darkness and began to stand. Once he felt solid on his own two feet, he grit his teeth and wrenched something long and unyielding from his shoulder blade. The movement brought a new wave of pain and dizziness but this time he was prepared for it.

Rolling his injured shoulder, he determined that there was nothing wrong the bones or joint, a simple flesh wound… that was something he could handle easily…

Cautiously he reached out into the darkness, finding what felt like a wall of farmers tools. The flat head of a hoe, the points of a rake, a smooth material that was unfamiliar in texture but seemed to encase something malleable. Reaching even further, he met the wall and followed it to a corner, and onto the next until he found a doorknob.

Slowly, unsure of what he would find on the other side, he opened the door and allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction.

His tormentor had not successfully captured him, if that was indeed what had happened.

The moon was high in the sky, full and only partly shrouded by low clouds. It cast welcome light on his surroundings. Trees, fences, a quaint house, and an assortment of animals watching from their small lean-tos.

But there was no sign of the camp he had just been sharing with Geralt and the others. No sign of his horse. No sign of who or what might have tossed him into the shed he’d just escaped.

He felt a steady stream of warm blood trickle down his back, reminding him of the most pressing issue at the moment.

Quietly, hand on the hilt of his right sword, Iorveth crept to the house. From his point it seemed dark and quiet. Instead of taking the time to case the entire building, he tried the first window he came across, and found covered by a stiffened net. His dagger made quick work of it, allowing him to rip the barrier away and break the glass with the pointed hilt.

His shoulder was not pleased with the strain of lifting himself, along with his weaponry, through the small opening, nor was it a graceful landing as there was unexpected furniture placed in his path… but he managed just the same.

The light of the moon did not offer much now that he was inside, but his Aen Seidhe senses were of more use with the small light than when there was none at all. A bed covered with frilly fabrics, a dresser cluttered with small bottles- perfumes and other toiletries he assumed- he stopped there. A dresser that just might hold fabric he could use to bind his wound…

Without ceremony he began to rifle through the drawers. He was not pleased that the first one held an assortment of rocks and crystals. The next had little vials of liquids and herbs, the labels of which held no meaning to him other than to frustrate him further. Papers filled the next… he sent them flying to the floor before checking the last drawer. Books with flowers pressed between the pages and words scribbled around them for some purpose or another.

Clenching his back teeth, Iorveth straightened, forced patience to the forefront of his emotions and began to look for a wardrobe… this was obviously a woman’s room, and women always had wardrobes stocked with skirts he could easily use to make a dressing.

The light of a sudden fire caught his attention.

He’d barely comprehended that fire had indeed just lit up out of no where when something hard and unforgiving cracked into the side of his head.

Iorveth didn’t remember falling, but when his senses came to him, he found himself face down on a rug, his ears ringing painfully… but he was able to quickly come to several conclusions.

First… he was not alone, and he felt the utter fool for allowing the houses occupant to get the better of him.

Second… there was little doubt that magic had been used.

The woman muttering to the canines sniffing at him was a sorceress.

And finally… as luck would have it… he fallen with his hand in perfect placement to draw his dagger unnoticed when the moment was right.

At the slightest pressure on his shoulder, he had his moment. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and using the throbbing in his head to fuel his movements, Iorveth quickly took control of his attacker. Within the breath of a moment, he had the sorceress trapped between him and her dresser, his dagger comfortably at her throat as he towered over her.

Iorveth’s threats remained behind his bared teeth, silenced by the fear radiating from a pair of amber eyes and trembling lips. He then realized he was… disappointed.

“I expected more of a fight, _sorceress_.” He lifted the dagger from her throat and used it to lift the hair that had escaped from the plait over her shoulder, exposing her ear. “Dh’oine.” He spat.

The woman swallowed harshly, but confusion eased the fear in her eyes. Eyes that lingered on his scar a moment too long before darting around restlessly. “I- I don’t recognize the language b-but… I understand you. How is that possible?”

Iorveth’s breath stilled for a moment as he realized it was the same for him. Her words were unlike anything he’d heard… but he knew them exactly. He didn’t have an answer, so he gave none. Instead he remained still, her clothing twisted in one hand, dagger resting behind her ear with the other… watching as emotions played across her striking face as she watched him back.

Everything about her was… light. Light brown hair to go with her light brown eyes. Light dusting of freckles across lightly dusky skin. Even her lips were light pink, and she bit the bottom one lightly.

Iorveth deepened his scowl.

When she put a hand on his chest to push him back, he refused, pressing the blades edge back to her throat.

Fear returned.

“Look, I’m not a fighter so you’ll get none from me. But you’re wounded… I can help with that.”

The words were whispered, and he felt the desperation trembling through her limbs.

“I have an ache in my head that suggests otherwise. And what sort of sorceress does not fight?”

She shook her head jerkily. “I’m not something as grand and impressive as what you seem to be expecting. Just an artist who happens to know a few spells… I usually only use magic to multitask… you know… cut vegetables or stir paint.”

Iorveth studied her a moment longer. Either she was an impressive actress, or indeed she was what she claimed to be. A harmless little witch… though the ringing in his head signified she was more dangerous than perhaps even she knew.

An artist she said. Iorveth was doubly disgusted by her now. Not only was she a deceitful sorceress… but an artist. No doubt with flowers in her head just like Geralt’s bard. He shuddered at the thought.

This time when she pushed against his chest lightly, he cautiously stepped back, eyeing her has she raised to her full height, which was pitiful compared to his. Quickly, as was smart of her, she moved to the doorway.

“I don’t know what it is you broke in here for. My mother has a pair of pearl earrings and my father a really nice fossil watch… but nothing else of any real value. We’re simple farmers out here.” She said with a bit more strength to her now that she didn’t have a blade to her throat. A strength that was absent from her follow up question, “Wh- just what are you doing?”

Iorveth grunted lightly as he tucked away the blade and began to unbuckle his sword belt and bow, laying them across the bed before moving onto his gambeson. He ignored the hiss coming from the cat pressed against the headboard. “You wished to bargain your life to treat my wound. I don’t imagine you will be able to do so without first examining it.” He cut her a quick glance as his pile of armor and weapons got higher with each layer he removed. Her eyes were wide and watchful.

“Ah damn. Right… Follow me to the kitchen. My room is ruined enough, no thanks to you. And you uhm…” She ran her gaze over him and the rest of the room. “-you take up too much room in here. And then I want you gone.” She didn’t wait to see if he’d agree but turned and left.

He supposed the room was a bit small and cluttered with furniture. Before he followed, he tucked his sheathed dagger in his right boot.

Slowly, eyeing his surroundings as we went, he followed the sounds of her now careless footsteps through the house. Various portraits of the woman and what must be her family, all with a life like detail unlike anything he’d ever seen before, lined the hallway. Light glowed from globes in the ceiling. More magic Iorveth supposed with a curl of his lip.

When he stepped into what must have been the kitchen, he found all manner of strange equipment. The stove, which only vaguely he recognized was of a green colored metal rather than stone and covered with knobs and glowing lights, the tall box of the same color of green that resembled a sarcophagus stood on its end had a humming sound coming from it. Food in various states of preparation littered the counters. A knife rested in full display and he found it odd that she did not have it in hand already.

“Over here, under the light.” The witch said as she set a shiny white box on a table then moved to the basin. He stood still, watching intently as she turned a handle and water poured out of the spout. She spent a great deal of time scrubbing her hands, to the point where he suspected she were delaying on purpose. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the clench of her jaw… he was indeed an unwelcome guest.

And he agreed silently. He did not wish to be there either.

“Sit. Is it too painful to remove your shirt?” She said at last, her back still turned to him.

Without hesitation he reached over his injured shoulder, grasped his loosely tied shirt and pulled it over his head. He felt dried blood peel away and fresh blood flowing freely. Mentally sighing at the tattered shirt, he wadded it up and dropped it on the floor by the chair he planned to sit in. Glancing down at the half healed scar low on his waist he noted that his units quartermaster would not be pleased at supplying him with another. It would be the second one in just as many weeks and shirts were not high on the priority lists when selecting supplies to take.

The woman finally shut off the water and turned toward him, shaking water from her hands. When he met her gaze, she paused midstep before drawing a deep breath and continuing to him. He tensed, well more than he already was, when she stepped behind him to view the damage.

“What did this?” She asked and a moment later he felt something cold brushing his skin.

“A farmer’s tool of some sort.”

“Ah. The tool shed. Hold still, this will sting. Though I see you are no stranger to… tool injuries. I don’t have anything stronger than some Tylenol for the pain.”

Iorveth turned his head till he could see her head tilted as she threaded a needle. “Cast a spell and get it over with sorceress.”

Amber eyes narrowed on him, but she didn’t stop her task. “I’m not- look, it’s astonishing that you even know about magic. And I’m not sure about your past encounters with witches, but-” She broke off and shook her head. “I cannot be having this conversation... Not all witches excel in all kinds of magic.”

She punctuated her explanation by beginning the first stitch.

Silence was welcome as he bit back his confusion and his questions, letting her work. A silence that was finally broken by the arrival of the two mutts from before. They sat in the doorway and watchful and prepared to run should he look at them with the slightest of snarls.

“You would be better off with dogs that can actually protect their territory. Much more than these mongrels.” He could not resist the jab.

She did not respond.

Instead, she stuck something over the wound, making the entire thing feel tight and uncomfortable but he did not complain. Aloud at least.

“I’m finished. Try not to move it for a few days and keep it clean. In a couple of weeks, have someone remove the stitches. Take your things and leave. Now.”

Iorveth narrowed his eye at the threat in her voice. Perhaps she did have the strength to cast a spell powerful enough to drop him in her shed. He stood from the chair, the dogs scrambled from the doorway, and a knife flew from the far counter and into the woman’s hand.

She held it low and with poor fighting form, and fear radiated from her, but she didn’t skitter away. He suspected the knife was more for show and comfort than any real danger to himself. She looked more likely to unintentionally hurt herself than him.

“I am heading to the northern Temerian border.” He said slowly, waiting for recognition to enter her expression.

“Is, is that in Canada?”

Iorveth felt a sick feeling beginning to spread through his stomach, a dread seeping into his blood.

“Just tell me where we are in relation to Vizima. And I shall gladly remove myself from your presence.”

Uncertainty flickered across her face. “My phone isn’t working but I can grab the atlas from the study, and I can look.”

“Fine.” Iorveth growled. It wasn’t fine. He wanted to get out of this witch’s house. Away from the bright lights and unfamiliar sounds coming from all around him. But he needed to know where the fuck he was.

Quietly he followed her from the kitchen. She kept the knife tightly in hand with frequent glances tossed over her shoulder. There was a small- the smallest of small- pricks of guilt in the back of his mind. It was becoming more and more apparent that this woman was weak. Not a warrior that he was accustomed to dealing with throughout his life.

He had done what he’d had to, a thousand times over, in order to avenge his people and further their survival, and that had included terrorizing the weak. But with Nilfgaard having taken over that role, his time was spent terrorizing the soldiers in black and gold.

But if her fear of him meant that he could get the information he needed so that he might leave, then he would resist any effort to put her at ease.

The room she entered was small, as every room in this house seemed to be. Books lined shelves, framed pictures, a globe, a rack of odd caps, a strangely shaped box, and many other things that he just couldn’t place, were scattered about the room that was dominated by a cluttered desk.

With a huff, the woman plucked up a large, yet thin book with a colorful cover, and dropped it on the desk. He heard muttering as she named off unfamiliar locations while flipping pages. Curious he stepped closer and peered over her shoulder.

“This is where we are right now.” She pointed to a tiny dot labeled Willow. “But I don’t see anything near called Vizima or Temeria.” She sighed and turned to look at him but jumped when she found him crowded in her space.

Feeling as if he were losing, he wits as women lost them over Jaskier’s ballads, he lightly pushed the woman from her place before the map. He knew the north lands better than he knew how to draw breath… had spent many nights burning candles low as he poured over maps, committing every river, every grassy knoll to memory.

But as he flipped trough pages, running his gaze quickly over the lines and colors, he’d certainly never heard of a territory named Washington.

The sinking feeling began to overwhelm him, and he sank into a chair he didn’t remember being there, his thoughts racing over everything he knew about Gwynbleidd’s daughter Cirilla. About demons from his friends past that had the power to transport beings against their will. About the conjunction of spheres and the portals that still linked worlds. The possibilities were many, and one of them had to be responsible for whatever this was.

Faintly, the woman’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“I can’t believe that I’m about to say this… but you- you’re not from here… are you?”

Iorveth cut a glare in her direction. ”Why do you suspect that sorceress?”

She perched on the corner of the desk and watched him through lowered lashes. “The clothing and armor and even the weapons could be explained away with a very farfetched reason. Very. Farfetched. But…” Her gaze moved up to his ear, but not with disdain. Uncertainty. “Your ears are unusual. Again, the explanation is there but it is significantly even more farfetched than the clothing. Your language. My ability to understand it. And the fear in you as you fail to recognize anything in that atlas.”

He stewed in silence as he picked apart her reasoning, latching onto the fact that his race was not common in this land. And she believed him frightened of his situation? Fool sorceress.

“I’m not _afraid_ witch.” Iorveth snapped and then hurtled himself from the chair and the study. By the time he reached her quarters where he’d left his weapons and armor, he’d forced his emotions back behind a cool exterior.

“What are you doing?” She asked as he swatted the black cat from his gambeson.

Iorveth remained silent, aware of her watching as he dressed. His lack of shirt was only mildly uncomfortable but he’d greater concerns at that moment.

“Not so rough or you’ll undo all my work and risk infection.”

“Leave off.” He muttered and the moment his sword belt was buckled, he grabbed his bow and shoved by her. He heard her long sigh as she followed.

“Look, I don’t want you here. I don’t even understand how you even came to be here.“ A hand grabbed his wrist when he located a door leading out of the kitchen and into the dark night. It took every ounce of sense to remember that this woman had helped him when she didn’t have to. Well that wasn’t entirely true, but it helped him to accept his behavior. As she was weak and had done a small service to him, he resisted- barely- the urge to send her into the wall behind her. “I don’t like the idea of you wandering around in a place like this, injured as you are. Locals are friendly enough, but they will shoot if they think you on their land to steal.”

Iorveth cut her one last glare as he pulled his wrist free of her.

And then he stepped into the night.

* * *

* * *

“What the actual _hell_ was all of this?” Jo whispered in dazed amazement as the stranger disappeared into the night. “Was any of that real? Did I honestly just put stitches in the back of that beastly man after he broke into my house and- and you know what?” She shut the door with a snap and turned away with determination. “I’m too tired and hungry to process this right now.”

Three passive and furry faces watched as she strode past them.

In the kitchen, Jo took a moment to take a breath, and replay the past thirty minuets or so of her encounter with the- the traveler for lack of a better explanation as to just what he was. Sure, he had broken in, intruded upon her home. But other than a broken window and a mess, he hadn’t done any other harm. He didn’t rob her blind like she’d originally thought.

Traveler from where, that was something her headache was refusing to corporate with at the moment.

He’d known about magic to the point where her being a witch had pissed him off. Clearly, he hadn’t had fun with his previous encounters with magic.

Weariness settled heavily across Jo as she waved a hand and wilted lettuce, stale bread, and putrid bacon bobbed through the air and into the trash bin. She stopped Roscoe from making a meal out of the traveler’s ruined shirt. It smelled of blood, smoke, and pine and she stood there staring at the stained fabric wadded in her hands running the moment she turned to find him pulling it over his head.

He was the epitome of lean strength covered in scars and a very interesting vine tattoo running the length of his neck, down his body and disappearing in a very interesting way. Just as interesting as the shape of his ears and the story behind his appearance.

But there was entirely too much hatred and fury glowing from that green eye that had cut through her.

With a shake of her head, Jo dropped the shirt into the bin and worked on scrubbing the lingering drops of blood from the chair he had sat in and the trail he’d left on the floor through the house.

The house was quiet when she finally sat down with a bowl of cereal. Her phone was still without signal and she realized that she’d never heard from her parents.

The ache behind her eyes tripled as she considered hauling herself back to her apartment just for some signal. All she wanted was to inhale her dads’ tasteless grape nut cereal and curl up in Charlie’s room since her room was a disaster at the moment, and sleep until noon.

So that’s what she did.

Sort of.

Somehow in between brushing the cardboard taste from her mouth and tripping over the twin’s box of Legos in Charlie’s room, Jo managed to pull on some warm flannel pajamas and dived under the blankets, determined to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

She put her worry for her parents on hold, the broken window and lack of groceries as well as all the farm chores were locked away for later. But no matter how she tried, her thoughts of her traveler would not give her peace.

Not even in her dreams.

* * *

* * *

_She walked through forests and vine covered ruins, always following him. He never looked over his shoulder to her, never spoke. Only ever walked and walked, still armed to the teeth. Why she followed, Jo couldn’t say. She wanted to stop and look at the trees gnarled with age, or the ruins that ran deep into the distance. But she only walked forward, her voice silent when she attempted to speak._

_A pop echoed through the trees, sending birds soaring into the stormy skies peeking through swaying treetops. The wind picked up, pulling at her hair and sending leaves dancing around her feet._

_The pop sounded again, louder this time_

_Jo finally stopped, gasping for breath as it felt as if a sledgehammer had just hit her in the stomach but when she looked down, she was fine._

_“Sorceress.”_

_Jo looked up; the traveler was now facing her. His armor and weapons gone, leaving him bare chested before her. Blood fell freely from a bullet wound on his stomach._

* * *

* * *

The moment Jo realized it was a bullet wound, she woke up, already scrambling from the bed.

She didn’t know how much sleep she’d had but judging by the darkness of the house as she ran through it with two dogs at her heels, not much. Her headache supported the suspicion.

Instinct drove her to shove her feet into a pair of work boots left on the porch to dry, and to run back in for the flashlight.

Was her dream a premonition? Jo didn’t know anymore. She couldn’t rely on her senses for anything these days, but she knew that if she didn’t check and someone discovered a dead man somewhere out in the country, Jo could never forgive herself.

But standing there, in the late night, early morning darkness and no idea on which of her neighbors would have actually followed through on shooting the man with intent to kill, Jo was directionless.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll!!! Hope you enjoyed <3


	4. Into the Storm

* * *

* * *

Panic squeezed Jo’s chest for reasons she couldn’t grasp. She just understood through the haze of sleepiness was her waking with her heart leaping out of her chest, and urgency sending her out into the dark early morning. The brisk morning air pricked at her skin and there was a dampness that warned of rain. Clouds blanketed the sky heavily, shrouding the moon and stars and offering no help whatsoever.

Jo switched on her flashlight and swept it across the landscape as she walked further from the house, turning in slow circles looking for where her mysterious traveler might have gone.

There was nothing.

A few chickens were beginning to ruffle their feathers and the trees began to sway as the wind picked up.

“Shit.”

The sky lit up in the distance.

Lightning.

Guilt churned Jo’s stomach. No matter how she tried to tell herself that the strange, otherworldly asshole was not her problem, she didn’t truly feel that way. He was injured, lost, and she doubted he had the ability to charm anyone into offering him help. If he could even be bothered to seek it out to begin with.

Jo doubted he knew how.

Scrubbing her free hand across her face, Jo tried to focus.

She was a witch for heavens sake… there had to be something she could use magic for in this situation. Something more than helping her reach books on the top shelf or fold her laundry surely.

Closing her eyes, Jo thought back to her dream. The man. The forests. The ruins. The storm.

She tried to remember the details, looking for anything that could help.

The wind tugged on the man’s lengthy dark hair, just as it did hers.

In the dream her hair flew in loose ribbons behind her, the mans long coat armor thing flapped.

They were walking into the wind.

Jo’s eyes sprang open and she turned till she faced the storm.

Lightning continued to flash sporadically, revealing hills and trees. The storm was still a way off, and he couldn’t have had more than a three or four hour head start. And if he were wounded by gunshot, he had to be close enough for her to have heard it… surely.

Either way, she needed a ride.

She despised her dads old four wheeler, but she didn’t have time to saddle the ironically named Bolt, the slowest gelding in the county, though she would much rather ride Bolt.

But as she whipped the tattered tarp from over the four wheeler, thunder rolled through sky. Bolt would not be reliable in a storm like this neither.

It seemed like hours between the time of Jo waking with a start to when she shot out of the equipment barn, but it couldn’t have been more than minuets. She prayed to who ever was listening for her sanity’s sake, that it wasn’t too late.

Through dried creeks that would soon be swelling with rain, darting through trees, and holding on for dear life as the bumpy ride threatened to send her into the air. The lone headlight offered little aid, especially at this speed and more often than she’d like, Jo had to stop to be certain she was still heading into the storm.

With the light from the lightning she could just make out the remains of an old gold rush era town in the distance. It was more rust and broken glass than anything with the wooden buildings mostly collapsed now and every kid in the county cut their teeth exploring them but even more important than that… perhaps they would fit with the ancient ruins she’d seen in her dream.

With this in mind, Jo put complete trust into her dreams and continued on.

Rain began to pelt her face and arms, not enough to soak her but enough to notch up the panic in her blood a bit more. The wind howled and lightning flashed through angry clouds, followed by cracks of thunder.

Jo loved a good storm, as any sensible witch would agree. The rawness of nature taking over, never knowing just how violent it would get. And though it did get her blood pumping, she didn’t make a habit of being out and about right in the middle of that violence.

Shaking rain and hair from her eyes as best she could, Jo crested the next hill and paused. She was running out of forest she realized, recognizing the location. It would soon give way to cliffs and the Pacific Ocean.

He had to be near.

Hands shaking, from the cold, the urgency pounding in her chest, exhaustion… it could have been all three. But Jo had a mission and she was so close… she had to be.

She waited, sweeping her flashlight over the landscape that the four wheelers couldn’t reach. It barely cut through the increasingly heavy rain.

Lightning flashed, chasing shadows away for one beat of her heart.

But it was enough for her to finally make out the form of a person sat with his back against a swaying aspen, head bowed.

“Fuck.” Jo whispered as dread overtook panic. Fearing she was too late, she sped down the hill toward where she’d seen the traveler. The ground had grown slick and the four wheeler ended up sliding the last few feet to the bottom of the hill, but she pushed that concern away for now.

There was a small amount of relief when the man looked up, squinting his one eye against the brightness of the light shining in his face, but that relief was quickly swallowed up by fear when he lifted a hand to shield himself from the glare. A hand that was dripping with blood and rain.

The four wheeler had barely been parked before Jo was leaping off and scrambling to his side and dropping to her knees in the mud. And just as she’d feared, just as her dream had shown, his middle was soaked in blood.

Searching his face, she found all his previous anger and hatred drained away, leaving his pallor white, his lips trembling, and deep green eye glazing over with pain.

“We need to get you back to the house!” Jo shouted over the storm.

“I- I’d rather take my chances with the forest.”

He tried; Jo could see. He truly tried to force his anger back into his voice.

“Don’t be an idiot. You want to die out here?”

“I’ve had-“ The exertion of talking must have caused him untold pain for he flinched and dropped his head back against the tree.

“If you say worse, I’ll laugh in your face. Something tells me that you’ve never been shot by a rifle, or anything like it.” Jo swiped wet hair from her face. “Now I really don’t want to be here, facing my own death. So, you are going to do your part, get your ass on my Dads four wheeler, and we can figure out what’s next once we aren’t being threatened by lightning or pneumonia. Now-“ Jo wrapped her hands around his uninjured arm and prepared to haul him up. –“get on your feet soldier!”

She pulled and though it seemed like he did genuinely attempt to stand, they both ended up falling back to the ground. She noted how shallow his breathing was becoming and the pain tightening his jaw. “I’m going to use magic to help lift you!”

Fury flashed across his face and with energy she didn’t think he’d had; he gripped her upper arms tightly. “Don’t you bloody dare.” He snarled through cruelly twisted lips.

“If you don’t fucking stand then you leave me no choice but to use it to haul your bleeding ass back to my house!” Jo could not believe the language coming out of her. Her Dad would be proud, but her Mom, students, everyone except for Zack, would be absolutely appalled. But the situation warranted colorful words and she didn’t get to use them as much when around more impressionable ears.

“No. Magic.” He growled in reply but held up his end by actually putting some effort into standing.

She struggled to keep upright as he settled his weight with his arm across her shoulder. It was awkward trying to wrap an arm around his back to hold him steady with his bow in the way. “Damn you’re heavier than you look.” Jo grunted as she tried to guide them the few steps to the four wheeler. “Sit on the back and hold onto me. Do not let go of me for anything.” She ordered as she helped him keep balance.

“Wha-“

“Straddle it like a horse. Fast now.”

There was a protest just itching behind his lips, she could see it all over his bloodless face, but for once he didn’t fight back and did as she said. She squeezed herself in front of him and when she felt his arms wrap around her, she swallowed back the odd hitch in her chest and gunned the four wheeler.

His grip tightened to the point where it was difficult to breathe.

But she kept going.

The storm was relentless now, pushing at their backs. Hills became dangerous to try and go up, so she had to take the long way around them. The only thing good about the situation was despite the dark clouds and thick rain, the rising sun was lightening up the sky to a cold dark blue. They had just passed the mining town ruins when she felt his grip on her slacken and his weight slide to the side, causing her to stop and catch him before he slid off.

“Hey, I need to you stay with me here alright?” Jo yelled over her shoulder. He didn’t respond and she could just make out the way his head rolled limply from blood loss. “I thought you were tougher than this.” She muttered to herself before realizing that she didn’t have a choice now. As much as he would likely hate her if he realized what she was about to do, she couldn’t just leave him, and he clearly no longer had the wits or strength to hold onto her.

Facing forward, she closed her eyes and pushed past her own exhaustion as much as she could. The only warmth in her body was from his chest pressed against her back, and even that was becoming frighteningly cold.

Magic came with a cost, a cost she usually offered from her own life force as the spells were small and light and didn’t take much from her.

But in this case, what she had wouldn’t be enough to lift a finger much less a whole ass man. Luckily the storm causing her so many problems was a fountain of unbridled power. Her Nana Francis had taught her long ago not to tangle with nature lightly, and Jo had always taken that lesson to heart. Magic wasn’t a plaything and must always be checked. But she was desperate.

Drawing strength from the storm didn’t fill her with swells of power but pushed her to her limits of consciousness and she just barely managed to whisper the spell. Her vision tunneled but she felt the mans arms looped around her like a solid band and his balance was now perfectly aligned, his head resting heavily against her shoulder. His breath was sparse and erratic as it brushed against the back of her neck, but it was there. That was all she could hope for at the moment.

Blinking against the rain and the fogginess spreading through her mind, Jo continued on, pushing herself and the four wheeler hard.

She was nearly upon the house before the sight of the porch light finally registered through the thickening darkness threatening to overcome her senses and she could have cried if she’d thought her body could have managed it.

Jo did reason as she finally brought the four wheeler to a well deserved stop just two steps from the porch, that she deserved a long, ugly cry that would leave her drained, sleep it off, and wake up to find that it was just a normal day and her Dad would fix up his best batch of French toast yet.

Getting the man into the house and to the kitchen was insanely difficult and Jo felt her control over her drawing from the storm begin to fray. He was a few feet away from where she would have liked when her control finally gave out and broke the spell, dropping his full weight on her like a boulder, but she managed to ease him to the floor as painlessly as she could.

Laying on his bow, couldn’t be comfortable but she suspected he wouldn’t mind for now. He’d passed out long ago.

Knelt there on the floor, dripping wet and attempting to regain a bit of strength, Jo took in his grey and clammy pallor that spoke a different story than the features relaxed with blood loss induced sleep. Without the anger hardening his face, and his scarless side facing her, he was more pleasant to look at than she would have liked to admit. His scar spoke of an obviously difficult journey through life, one that spoke of mystery and pain. But this side of him, even with the hard lines of his jawline and cheekbones, was surprisingly soft.

Jo knew she’d always been a sucker for long dark lashes, but this guy was the whole package. Bastard that he was.

Dark hair poked out from beneath his bandanna hat thing in wet spikes, framing a pointed ear. Until now, Jo had been suspicious about her mind playing tricks, feeding her something from her imagination. But as fingers reached out against her will, hovering just above the pointed tip of the stranger’s ear, Jo felt herself beginning to well and truly accept that her suspicions might hold weight.

There’s no way this guy was from here and now. Whether that made him a time traveler with abnormal ears or someone from another world all together, Jo supposed only he could answer that for her.

Without touching him, she let her hand fall to her side and moved her gaze down to his stomach.

Her job wasn’t finished yet.

She could manage a few stitches, perhaps setting a shoulder if she absolutely had to, but a bullet wound was out of her skill set by leaps and bounds.

And Jo quickly reasoned that she couldn’t just take him to the nearest hospital, for many reasons, one of which was the fact that the nearest hospital was an hour drive in ideal weather. She needed help. Someone who knew what to do and who would keep this a secret.

On trembling legs, Joe walked to the counter where her useless phone lay. She had to get it charged and quickly. But when she picked it up, to her astonishment, it turned right on. Her wallpaper of Asher’s wide eyed kitty face light up the screen.

Taking the gift for just that, she made her call.

* * *

* * *

The forest of Temeria had been as close to home as Iorveth had ever figured he’d get, and he knew them like he knew the weight of his favorite blade. Knew where the trolls made their home. The caves that disappeared into the ground without end. The ruins of his people, and where every bloody battle fought to bring them back.

But even more, he knew the trees.

Which ones to take to for a trap, ones to strip down for arrows, and ones to offer shelter.

He didn’t believe in an afterlife, but he’d always, deep- very deep, down he’d hoped that when he finally died the violent death he was due, that he’d spend his eternity resting along a sturdy limb with the scent of a freshly skinned deer cooking over a fire below. Perhaps his fallen comrades would be there telling stories and crossing blades in friendly practice.

Sometimes, when times were at their darkest, he’d hope his mother and sister were there, singing songs from a time forgotten.

He’d also thought he might have both of his eyes.

It seemed he was wrong.

He hadn’t envisioned the salty taste of the ocean. Of sitting on a cliff, his legs dangling high above crashing waves, watching the sun set far out across an endless ocean. Ocean spray brushed against his face, carried by a gentle breeze that hinted of fallen leaves and misty mornings.

There was a breathless peace, and Iorveth had to admit, that this wasn’t so bad. Normally he wasn’t agreeable to being wet unless he was bathing, but there was a freshness to this ocean side damp that he found invigorating.

A shiver went down his spine.

Flashes of lightning in his mind. Wind, thunder, and cold cold rain. He didn’t remember dying. Just pain that faded away. Of warmth overtaking cold.

Something soft and wet brushed across his brow.

Iorveth frowned and rubbed at his forehead.

_“Stop it. I’m trying to keep you free of fever.”_

Iorveth twisted his head around, searching for the familiar voice. It was a pleasant voice colored with annoyance.

_“Calm down, it’s just me.”_

Intrigued but becoming more frustrated by the moment, Iorveth went to draw a blade, but to his shock, he was weaponless.

The ocean and cliffs faded away to black, the question of who is ‘just me’ swallowed by the silence.

* * *

* * *

Yawning deeply, Jo held a steaming cup of coffee toward the man of the hour, her best friend Zack. “Just old people creamer I’m afraid.” She said, watching as he sniffed it critically before taking a sip. With a sigh, Jo sat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed her mysterious stranger lay in and drank deeply from her own cup.

Zack had come to her rescue, with supplies and knowledge gained from when Rodney, Willow’s resident catastrophe had shot himself in the shoulder when he dropped his brothers antique colt once. Removing a bullet from a man’s side was a bit more in depth and all around terrifying, but Zack and pulled through with Jo following every order from hold the flashlight to rewind the YouTube video giving step by step on his phone.

As she slouched there in her seat, she smiled fondly at her brilliant friend. He was undoubtably sleepy, and bursting with thousands of questions, but he’d been amazing. You’d have never known that he was a nurse at a local single practice who mainly treated sprains and belly aches instead of hard-core life saving procedures like extracting bullets.

His auburn hair was a riotous mess and he kept having to shake it out of his sparkling brown eyes as he watched his patient diligently.

Working as a team, they had stripped the unconscious stranger of his weapons and armor and moved him to her parents’ bed. The wound was a nasty piece of work and was steadily bleeding across cold skin. Zack had declared that so long as the guy could fight infection, he would heal eventually.

“I suppose you can ask your questions now.” Jo said, closing her eyes and laying her head back against the chair.

“You look about to become my next patient Jo. I can wait until you get some sleep. I’ll keep watch over your friend here.”

Jo offered a tired smile as she set her barely touched coffee down on the bedside table, her Dads side to be specific with his model sixty-seven impala and book Journey to the Center of the Earth sat next to his lamp.

It was then that Jo finally remembered that she’d never heard from her parents, nor had she ever called her sister to give her an update on their parents.

“Dammit… I need to make some calls.” Jo muttered. “Thanks for all of this Zack. I promise to tell you everything after some sleep.”

Zack came to her side and helped her stand. With a peck on her forehead he herded her toward the door. “Go. I’ll be here. It would take Rose and the baby to get me to leave without finding out why tall, dark, mysterious, and nearly dead, is in your house and why he’s your problem.”

Sticking out a tongue at his cheekiness, Jo started to walk into her room, only to remember the chaotic state of it and trudge on down to Charlies room.

With the phone on speaker, Jo called her Mom while she changed into fresh pajamas, her sisters this time. The storm had long since passed, and sunlight poured in. That is until she dropped the shades with a snap of her fingers. The wave of dizziness was worth it as darkness brought her sore eyes some relief.

Relief that spread to her fingertips when she at last hear her Moms voice.

“Josephine! Its beautiful down here. We’re just on our way to a _real_ beach! With white sand and umbrellas and- and surfers!”

Jo couldn’t help the little smile at her Moms excitement. “Mom there’s nothing wrong with our beaches… but I’m glad you and Dad will get to relax.”

“Op we’re here! Ta!”

And just like that, the conversation was over as quickly as it began.

Jo finished pulling Charlie’s old Cranberries t shirt on. After collapsing face first into the pillows, she managed to twist enough to send a text to Charlie that everything was fine.

Sleep overtook her moments after pushing send.

* * *

* * *

The first thing to slip in through the darkness of Iorveth’s mind was pain. His body felt as if a fire were lit within his gut, its flames stretching out to touch through to the tips of his fingers and raged within his head.

The second were voices. Voices he clung to, using them to claw his way out of the void of darkness and agony.

“Sounds like you had a helluva night Josephine Allen.”

“As difficult and crazy as it was for me, its been more difficult for our stranger here.”

“I can’t argue with that… So, let me get this straight. He got hurt in the shed, broke into the house for some reason, you stitched him up and sent him on his way, had a dream-“

“Premonition.”

“…yea Spidey sense stuff. Ran out into a storm and dragged his thieving ass back here with a bullet in his gut? Who shot him?”

“He didn’t actually steal anything, just broke my window and made a mess. But yes, that is it. I don’t know who would have shot him. No one lives in that direction.”

“Jesus Jo. You needed excitement in your life, but this isn’t what I had in mind.”

“Oh yea? Well I figured those piano lessons were gonna be too tame for little ole me.”

“I envisioned something _normal_. You know, like a Hallmark movie.”

“I absolutely love that you know about Hallmark movies.”

“Yea well its me against you, Rose, and Evelyn.”

There was a drought of silence, silence that reminded him of the pain he was fighting against and beginning to steadily loose.

“You know that you and Rose got that Hallmark movie ending, and its perfect for you two. You both deserve it. But whatever this is… this is not cozy and warm. And its not the kind of excitement you were talking about.”

“So why are you helping this guy?”

“Because Zack.”

“Because…?”

A long sigh whispered through the long silence.

And drew him back into the void.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beauties!!! Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter. This week has been full of distractions (eh hem Final Fantasy 7 Remake or as i think of it Cloud dating simulator), working from home, and homeschool kids who dont want to be homeschooled! But I'm thrilled with this chapter and I hope you guys are as well. Thank you for hanging out with me, reading, commenting, and being wonderful. Next up Jo and Iorveth will finally get to have a much needed conversation, exchange some names, and make a plan!!!


	5. Song of Sunny Days

* * *

* * *

Something cradled the back of his head.

A firm hand.

Murmur of a soothing voice giving a command he couldn’t quite make out.

Water slipped into his mouth. Cool and soothing, though he couldn’t resist coughing as his dry throat rejected it at first.

Too much water.

The voice was now irritated. And much more clear.

“Well now you’ve done it. Coughed up all over me.”

Iorveth didn’t think he’d ever been this exhausted in his life… and that was definitely a feat for the life of a soldier. Exhausted to the point where he couldn’t even think of a response to whomever as attempting to drown him.

Instead he accepted another drink, successfully this time, and collapsed back into the softest bed he’d ever lay in.

Though his chest and back ached fiercely, he drew in a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh, sinking further into the softness that made him think of the clouds on a sunny day.

Growing up his bed had been of a woven matt his mother had made and he’d shared it with his sister. Then there had been the grassiest spot in camp or the sturdiest limb of a tree. A few times, in villages where nonhumans were the majority, there were inns with beds of hay. Once he’d even had the pleasure to lay in one stuffed with fresh hay instead of one that smelt of sour bodies.

But this… if it weren’t for the pain, he’d be certain that he was finally dead, and someone had made the mistake of giving him a pleasant afterlife.

“Are you awake?”

No, he wanted to say, but he had just enough wits about him to no make a fool of himself anymore than he already had.

Iorveth recalled seeing his mother press her palms into her lower back and stretch. Attempting to ease an ache that would never be eased. It came with decades upon decades of scrubbing floors and stirring boiling laundry baths and then sleeping on floors in the slums.

He could still hear her singing. A lilting song that brought to mind sunny days frolicking in the fields, learning to hunt and swim.

His mind eased, drifting away until he was lost to an idyllic dream. It ended with the human his mother, himself, and his sister had toiled for, kicked him in the ribs for daring to sneak a couple of sweet buns from the kitchen for himself and his sister. The icing around the corner of her mouth had been the damning evidence.

Iorveth gladly accepted blame and begged his sister to be spared.

He was not heard. But he was punished just as much as she.

When the fourth kick landed, cracking his ribs, a loud crash sent Iorveth awake, sitting up with a rush, and gasping for breath, all actions that reminded him that he was greatly injured.

With steely resolve, he calmed himself, pushed the dream away and took stock of his whereabouts.

Ah yes.

His memory was coming back.

The camp outside Vizima. Appearing in a dark tool shed and impaling himself on something sharp. The sorceress. Piecing together that he was no longer on the continent.

And somehow being placed within these four walls and stripped down to nothing but the sheet covering his hips down.

It wasn’t a large room by any regard, but it seemed just big enough to be spacious with walls decorated in white paint and flowers patterned throughout, a couple of windows with curtains of blue matching the flowers on the wall. Oddities that made him think of strangely shaped birds hung from sting in a corner, a tall mirror rested in the opposite corner with bits of flowy and colorful fabrics hanging over it. A high back chair next to one of the windows had a basket of clothing sat in it. Paintings of various skill but all of landscapes were scattered about, joining plants that were overgrown but well nurtured. The table nearest him had a book, another oddity but the wheels on it suggested some sort of carriage, a glass of water and a note with two little white pellets.

Dogs began to bark outside the window, the noise causing sharp pain to ring around in his head. Raising a hand that trembled slightly and felt bloodless, he rubbed at his temple. Muttering a curse, he realized that his head was bare, reminding him of his vulnerability.

Glancing about with fresh objective, he found no sign of any of his belongings.

Whomever had stripped him and taken his weapons would not be living long to offer explanation, Iorveth decided and began to ease himself to standing.

The string of curses following the second failed attempt of holding his balance would have made Zoltan proud. On the third, he managed to hold onto the raised footboard long enough to leave the sheet behind and take the three steps to the window, bracing himself heavily on the sill. Frustrated, he shook and shoved the flimsy curtain to the side and squinted into the bright sunshine outside.

He recognized the woman outside whom talked to the two yapping dogs, encouraging their racket. Her hair was pulled up into a tight knot at the top of her head though a few strands were rebelling and framing a face flushed with exertion.

Stunned- whether because it was such an odd sight, or other some such reason that Iorveth would rather cut his hand off than acknowledge had a possibility of being correct- he watched as the sorceress dressed in baggy men’s pants tucked into boots and a long sleeved shirt with colorful stripes hauled pumpkin after pumpkin from a wagon and into the back of another one of those bizarre carts.

Why didn’t she use magic for this little job? Iorveth wondered before realization finally caught up to his exhausted mind.

The storm. She’d come for him and hauled him back here, the place he’d sought to escape and then…

Iorveth glanced down at his naked form.

He had the bandage wrapped around his shoulder, but an even larger wone had joined it, wrapped around his waist, covering the area that felt as if he were ripped open with every breath he took.

The witch had likely saved his life.

Looking back at the woman as she whistled and once the two dogs jumped into the cart climbed in after them, Iorveth seethed.

Someone had wounded him. Something he couldn’t see but felt deeply and had forced him ever more into her debt. He did not do well in the debt of others and had made it a point of pride to never be at someone’s feckless will. He followed his own bidding… though that was not true until very recently.

Broken from his thoughts by a ragged roar, he watched in astonishment as the cart sped away, completely horseless. Most extraordinary. It was something out of the fantasies of spiced up minds of Oxenfurt. Dimly he wondered just where the witch had gone and if she planned to return.

If only so that he could find out just what sort of magic were at work here.

His legs began to shake, renewing his frustration for his current situation. With a pained grunt and an exhausted sigh, he sat once more on the bed, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath before giving a humorless huff of laughter.

The bounty on his head had been growing greater and greater as the years went by, and many an attempt had been made to collect. He was wanted dead or alive and everyone knew it would be easier to bring him in dead. He’d faced everything from a crossbow to poison, betrayal and ambush… but he’d never been felled though sometimes he’d come out a bit bruised and sore. And he’d always made the bounty hunter pay.

His memory brushed against the closest anyone had come but he locked up the memory tightly and sneered at the window where he’d last seen the witch.

This time his enemy was invisible. With the power to move him between worlds and a weapon that could tear a body apart from the inside.

Swallowing against the ache in his throat that he swore silently wasn’t panic, Iorveth plucked up the glass of water and drank deeply before eyeing the pills and note.

The letters were strange, but he understood the flowing markings just fine.

_Take these for pain. Stay in bed._

_-Wicked Witch of the West_

_P.S. That means no snooping._

Rolling his one good eye, Iorveth ignored the pills, finished off the water, and then hauled himself to his feet once more.

* * *

* * *

Breaking from singing along to the song blaring from the old farm pickups one good speaker to yawn deeply, Jo slowed as she pulled into the dirt parking lot at the edge of the fairgrounds. All around the open field, Willow residents worked to decorate and set up booths for the upcoming harvest festival.

In the distance was the rodeo arena that also served as the demolition track where barrel racing would be enjoyed by day followed by the blood rushing crashing of cars by night. There were to soon be booths for pie bake offs, chili cook offs, biggest pumpkin competitions, and the usual ring toss and bobbing for apples. Horse races, sack races, and even a cross country race were being marked and studied by hopeful competitors.

Catching sight on one particular booth being constructed by high school seniors, Jo grinned at her own little competition she would be joining in on.

An art competition. She would not be competing but a judge alongside florist and long time friend, Evelyn. It seemed as if she’d supplied plenty of flowery arrangements for the students to do with what they would.

Her excitement was quickly soured by the memory that she had fifty pumpkins to start hauling around the grounds to give the fall harvest aesthetic that so many were looking forward to. “Alright doggos who’s ready to get to work?” She asked the two dogs wiggling on the seat beside her with happy doggy grins. “Right then, get going!” She called out and opened the pickup truck’s door. She’d barely moved out of the way before they came barreling out and shoot into the crowd to mingle with the gaggle of kids running to and fro.

Jo wished she had their energy.

A day and a half since _the night_ and she was still exhausted beyond comprehension. First the over expenditure of magic, then the hours of aiding Zack, followed by the continuing of nursing that was required of a body recovering from a bullet wound.

Her magic was not yet up to snuff, so anything that it might have helped with… for example lifting a truckload of pumpkins alone. She wasn’t against putting her back into some actual labor, but there were some jobs that if you had the tools to make them easier then well one would be sensible to take advantage of them.

As it was, she could barely stir a cup of coffee with a teaspoon much less levitate so many heavy pumpkins.

And the job wasn’t done yet.

Now she had to get said pumpkins spread across the fairgrounds.

In complete contrast to the misty Friday that had turned into the storm of the year for her, the Sunday sky was cheery and bright though the breeze was touched with coolness that made her wish she’d brought a jacket.

But nothing like a bit of work to warm one up she supposed.

Jo dropped the tailgate and stood back with her hands resting on her hips. Even if her magic was right as rain, she couldn’t have exactly used it for this part anyways so her moaning and groaning was perfectly useless now.

“That’s a good haul this year.”

Turning, Jo smiled at Charlie and shook her head. “I’d agree if I wasn’t so put out with having to lug them around. Where are the girls?”

“Helping with the apples for the bobbing.”

“Oliva is feeling better then?”

Charlie nodded and reached for a pumpkin. “She sprung back with more energy than ever. But what about you? You look like hell.”

Jo rolled her eyes, plucked up a pumpkin and began to walk. “Thanks sister dear.” She muttered with good natured sarcasm.

“Well I’ve seen you after all nighters and that frown with those dark circled eyes and that hairstyle means that you’ve hardly slept.”

As Jo tried to think up an escape, something that Jo thought was the stranger’s fault and increased her irritation of him, she caught sight of something that would help immensely. “Charlie look.” She jerked her chin in the opposite direction. “Mr. Morgan has wheelbarrow. Do you mind running over to see if he will lend it to us?”

Charlie scrunched her nose at her. “The only reason I’m allowing you to push off from giving me a straight answer is because I don’t want to carry these one by one either. Plus, it looks like he is by the apple bobbing, so I’ll get the chance to check up on the girls. But don’t think I’ve forgotten that you refused to tell me why you look like lightning struck you.”

Jo fought and failed miserably against the glare of irritation. She didn’t want to be in the awkward position of having to lie to her sister, especially since she didn’t even know why. She didn’t have any real answers, just speculation, and even if she knew for certain, how could she just tell Charlie the truth?

A ruggedly handsome stranger with pointed ears who looked straight out of the renaissance faire had dropped into her lap with a deep cut in his shoulder and a bullet to his gut and now lay in their parents bed fighting for his life?

Not that she didn’t trust Charlie, but the fewer who knew of any of this the better. Zack was very dear to her but if it weren’t for his medical knowledge, not even he would know about the stranger’s presence.

She was just tired, she knew. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault for being concerned, Jo had been the concerned sister many times herself.

There was a renewed sense of impatience in Jo, started by the need to put Charlie off the trail and continued by her concern for the wounded man back at the farm. He’d been incoherent the last time she tried to coax some water down him. She wondered if he’d awakened yet. He would need to soon, or else she’d be calling in another favor to Zack for some iv bags of saline and vitamins.

By the time Jo dropped off the first pumpkin and returned to the truck, Charlie had made it back with Mr Morgan helping her load up his wheelbarrow, Oliva and Sophia sitting on top of the pile.

The sight of Mr Morgan’s smile at her sister was enough to send her heart fluttering, but it was the answering smile of Charlie’s that sent a wave of happiness and relief through her chest and down to her fingertips.

Something was there, Jo just knew it.

* * *

* * *

The house was silent as Iorveth stalked through halls and rooms, examining every corner and every oddity though he never touched anything. Other than the pants he’d found in the basket of clothing. A rough material that chafed, was too loose around his waist and the legs only reached the bottom of his calves. A long strip of patterned fabric made do as a belt to fix the first problem, but there was no helping the second.

The only evidence of the night of his arrival was the boards nailed up across the window he’d broken through. The mess he’d made in his search for bandaging was gone, his trail of blood cleaned up from the floor and anything used to patch him up removed.

Nothing seemed out of place now he noticed as he stood in the kitchen, eyeing the things that he had no name for nor any guess as to their point.

His stomach growled, urging him to search the cupboards for food, but he pushed the painful reminder that he’d not eaten in what had to be days now. No matter, he’d gone longer, and he would not eat the woman’s food. Racking up a debt he had no means to pay back was not something that sat well with someone of his independence. He just needed to find his bow and he could hunt for his own meal.

He checked the woman’s room again, but his belongings were not there. Nor were they in the room with the maps and next with the toys and children’s clothing.

The thought of being trapped in a house where children resided sent and unexpected jolt of anger through him. Children did not react well to the sight of him… not even those of his own race. And their parents were no better.

It occurred suddenly to Iorveth that the witch had a child, a husband even. Perhaps that was where she was at that moment. He doubted she would bring children here while he was within the house.

But-

If she were bringing someone back here to take him in hand thinking he were weak and easy prey, she would be disappointed for he would be waiting with sword and bow. Life debt or not he would never be anyone’s prisoner again.

Each step he took as the prowled through the house felt like a stab to the gut, but determination gave him strength.

During his search he found the washroom. He’d heard of indoor plumbing in some of the grander castles of the more affluent countries, but it was most unexpected to find in a small country home. The knobs were easy enough to work out and he couldn’t resist splashing cool water on his face and dragging some through his hair. It wasn’t a full on bath but it would hold over for the remainder of his search.

The last room he came to was by far the biggest in the house, with couches, tables, and chairs. Bookshelves that had more figurines and pictures than books. A large black screen that dominated one wall and a fireplace dominating another. It was shadowed in the early evening light, but he was able to make out the black cat stretched out on the back of a chair watching him with sleepy yellow eyes, and in that chair the welcome sight of his belongings.

As quickly as his wound would allow, he went straight for them and began checking everything over. His swords and daggers, every arrow was accounted for as well as his bow. Not a knick on them to his relief. His clothing and armor were another matter. It looked as if some attempt had been made to clean the blood from them, but they were now well and truly stained. He noticed the little hole in the chainmail, but the sewing done to patch up his gambeson was well done and held tightly.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to slip it on, but the unbearable feeling of flesh tearing brought him to his knees with bruising force and vision going bright. Breathing heavily, he shoved the armor back onto the chair and eased himself into a more comfortable position leaning back against the bottom of the couch.

Slowly the pain receded and with it the white spots from his vision.

“Fuck.” He muttered, dropping his head back onto the seat and drew deep breaths. He eventually clamed enough and plucked his cap from the pile and settled it over his hair and scar. It wasn’t much but the familiar weight made him feel as if he were properly covered and ready for battle.

Easing himself carefully he moved to sitting on the couch with a sword laid across his lap.

And he waited.

The shadows grew long.

The cat jumped down, stretched, disappeared for a few moments, the returned and laid beside him on the couch.

The farm animals made their usual noises and clambered around.

Iorveth knew he could wait like this for days. Prepared to strike the moment his quarry was in place. Not that he planned to run the witch through at first sight… only if she brought her man along to pose a problem.

But that was when his body was properly healed and nourished. As it were, his stomach turned devastatingly, and his eye was heavy with exhaustion.

To keep himself awake he slowly made himself around the room. Past the box of fluffy blankets, the stack of firewood and pile of books. On one of the shelves he examined a small framed portrait. Two women- the witch being one of them- and two very young children. And tucked behind that portrait was a little flute.

It looked damn near similar to his, if not for the fact he were completely certain that he’d left his flute packed away in his saddle bags at the camp with the others, he could have believed it to be hit.

Unable to resist, he plucked it up and returned to his seat, and studied it. There was one difference. An O was carved into one side and an S into the other. Locking away his mild curiosity he couldn’t help testing it out. A few practice notes, adjusting for the tightness in his chest, he played an age old song.

It wasn’t his flute, that was evident even more so for the notes were different. The holes spaced closer together and his fingers were tangled more than once in the unfamiliarity. But the music brought him a bit of comfort, as must as he could bare to admit he needed.

Soon his weakened state caught up with him, leaving him breathless and dropping the flute next to the cat.

“That was beautiful.” A now familiar voice said from his blind side.

* * *

* * *

Parking the pickup up by the barn, Jo set the dogs loose to go gather up critters for feed time. Roscoe couldn’t do much herding, but he enjoyed running around Sally while she did her thing expertly.

While they did their thing, Jo decided to check on the traveler really quick and headed on to the house. She was surprisingly jumpy at the thought of finding him awake. Though she wanted him to recover, she didn’t know what to do if he were in the right health to finally give answers. Answers that frightened her as much as they poked at her sense of curiosity.

Well she got her answer when she stepped onto the porch and heard the gentle song. It was faint, muffled by the glass windows, but it was there and lovely.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly slipped inside and followed the music to the living room.

What a sight he made this strange traveler. He’d covered his head, but the wild strands of his black hair still poked out in random directions. Long fingers dance along the instrument, and lips though twisted a bit from the scar were brilliant in their skill.

The moment the thought registered her mind, Jo wanted to punch herself in the eye for using ‘lips’ and ‘brilliant’ in the same sentence. She was not some lovestruck girl making googly eyes at a well formed pair of mainly lips. She was a woman of means and independence and not unfamiliar with lips even better formed than those.

Okay she was thinking the word lips way too much to be normal Jo finally reasoned, and just in time as well for the playing had stopped and an exhausted sigh replaced it.

Plucking up some courage, Jo stepped fully into the room and crossed her arms across her waist. “That was beautiful.” She said simply.

The man’s one eyed gaze snapped to her and with a rush of strength that surprised her he stood and unsheathed a sword in the same movement. Breath caught in her throat at having yet another blade pulled on her, Jo fisted her hands in the cloth at her sides and waited for him to see she was not a threat.

After a long moment of staring each other down, she saw the exhaustion waver him slightly and he slowly lowered the sword and himself till he was heavily seated back on the couch. Asher barely twitched his tail at the commotion.

“How do you feel?” Jo asked, keeping her distance but moving till she could face him head on.

“As if I’d just faced a griffin. But I’ll live.” Came the voice she remembered. Deep and hard edged.

Jo nodded, pressing her lips together as she picked up the bitterness, he was plainly feeling toward her. “Right. Well I need to toss out some feed and then I’ll fix up some eggs. There’s not much to eat right now but I’ll bring out some groceries tomorrow after work.”

He opened his mouth to say something, bust stopped himself and instead glanced toward the front door with a hard scowl. She didn’t know what he was watching for, but she felt properly dismissed and any apprehension and the small, teeny tiny spark of attraction were drowned out by irritation. Just as well too.

“My name is Jo, but you may call me Josephine.” She snapped out and quickly strode from the room, his silence following her.

By the time she fed the animals and returned she had worked herself into one helluva mood. A mood she made obvious as she stomped back into the house minuets later, forgetting to leave her boots at the door. She found him just as she had left him, seating on the couch, that damn sword laid across his lap though it was once more sheathed.

She ignored him and stomped passed to the kitchen and made quite the racket in pulling out mixing bowls and pans. She called it immature, but it made her feel better for the moment. She only risked her life for the guy that had done nothing but cause her headache, was keeping things from her sister and having to tell Zack that no she still did not know what this guy’s deal with.

And all he could manage to do was draw swords on her and bite his tongue. Well enough was enough. Who did he think he was… at the very least he could have had the common curtesy to tell her his name-

“Iorveth.”

The sudden sound of his voice was enough to send the mixing bowl in her hand clattering to the floor as she jerked her gaze to find him standing in the doorway. “Wh-what?”

“My name is Iorveth. You were talk to yourself but loud enough to rattle the walls.”

She felt heat rush across her skin, but she pushed aside her shame at being caught acting like a child and ticked her chin up. “Iorveth.” She tried it out before quickly plucking up the bowl and continued to go about scrambling some eggs.

She lasted all of sixteen seconds before she dropped the bowl and turned to face the newly named Iorveth head on. “Alright Iorveth. I thought I could wait until at least we had both eaten but I’m too tired- body, mind, and patience. Just where are you from and what are you doing here? And don’t try and bullshit me-“ His appearance finally caught up to her and she broke off.

Sure he cut a very attractive figure with his fit body and interesting tattoo leaned against the doorway… but it was the fact that he wore her father ill fitting and very worn Levi’s with one of her mother’s scarves as a belt, barefoot and very disheveled that had humor tugging at the corners of her lips and she had to press them together and look away before she burst out laughing.

He was far from the fearsome figure he made when he was all done up and armed to the teeth. Sure, the glare in eye said he wouldn’t hesitate to murder her if she actually laughed but it was softened a great deal by the very high water jeans.

“If you can manage to control yourself, I’ll tell you what I know, though it isn’t much.”

Blowing out a deep breath, Jo nodded and turned back to the eggs. “Alright, take a seat. You talk, I’ll cook and listen.”

A moment later and she heard the sound of a chair being pulled out and sat in and her movements slowed when he began speaking.

“My home is a land known simply as The Continent. Broken up into many countries though long ago it all belonged to the Aen Seidhe, Dwarves, and folk. There’s something called the convergence of spheres.”

The things he spoke of were… fantastical and the things of fabulous story telling. Different humanoid races that lived alongside humans, his people being elves. He did not give a great accounting of his world, just the general jist of magic and its capabilities- one of those which must have been responsible for delivering him here on Earth.

By the time he finished with his disappearance from his camp with friends- or allies as he’d called them- she was seated across from him and they were both halfway through plates of scrambled eggs but she’d abandoned hers to stare at him.

“I’ve lived with magic my whole life, was taught by my well informed and well connected grandmother, and never heard of such a thing as portals through space or beings with the ability to do such things.”

His lips twisted into a mocking sneer. “And therefore, they must be impossible, and I’ve lost my wits.”

Jo narrowed her eyes but kept her voice civil. “Hardly. What I am saying is…. Why here? Why now? And how the fuck do we get you out of here?”

“I don’t care about the first two. Only the last.”

Sitting back, Jo crossed her arms and lifted her brows. “Well don’t look at me. Since dragging you back here, I can barely crack an egg with magic, much less toss you back to where you came from even if I knew how.”

Iorveth froze. “You used magic to get me back here?”

Jo was already spoiling for a fight, and she knew he was as well, and she knew she should be the bigger person here and keep her head, but- “Do not glare at me as if I’m some villain. You were dead weight. It was use magic to keep you sitting or let you drop to the ground and leave you to die. And I paid the price for it- magic always has a price.”

He learned toward her; palms pressed into the table. “Oh, I am very aware of the price magic asks. If you even think to use it on me-“

“-Then I will have a very good reason to I assure you. As it is, you owe me. Twice.”

That was definitely the wrong choice of words Jo soon learned as he stood with such speed the chair flipped back behind him, but rather than throttle her as she was sure he was imagining himself he strode from the room.

Guilt washed over her and as much as it frustrated her, she followed after him, back to find him on the couch. Biting back a sigh, she sank into a vacant chair, slightly warmed when Asher curled up in her lap, purring gently as she sank her fingers into his fur.

“You don’t really owe me. Anything I did, I would have done for anyone. You were in need, and I provided help- no questions asked. Except the questions left unsaid were weighing down on me and I just needed to understand. That being said… I will of course help you get back home. I don’t know how… but there has to be a reason you were left here and not some other witch.”

His silence continued.

“Look we both need rest. I have work in the morning and a festival to get ready for. We can both spend some time thinking and see what we can come up with on what to do next.”

Silence.

Giving up, she was halfway out of the room when he finally spoke up, his question stopping her in her tracks, Asher beside her.

“And what of your husband? Will he be aiding us as well?”

A startled laugh escaped her as she glanced to find him watching her. “Husband? Mine? I never met such a man.”

“I saw the children’s clothing and toys.”

Disgust… or maybe apprehension flit across his features. Realization dawned and she shook her head with another chuckle. “Don’t fear Iorveth. The girls are my nieces. The only man in this house is my Dad and the ghost of my dead brother in law… and temporarily you I suppose.”

After a long pause ne nodded agreeing to something that had not been fully discussed. “Temporarily.”

There was so much unsaid, and so much to think on… and now that she’d been given a taste of the mystery that was her traveler, all she wanted now was an early bedtime and a long day of distractions in the form of elementary aged kids.

“Good night Iorveth.”

Silence again.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!! How have you been? Drinking water and taking walks??? I wish I could say I have. Instead I have been drinking coffee and tea all day and indoors waaaay too much. Tomorrow I promise I'm getting out there though.  
> I hope yall liked a bit of googly eyeing and a bit of clashing wills fueled by mistrust and and deeply buried fear. Next up Iorveth makes a friend... or two, and Jo does her part for the festival with a surprise in store! And who knows what else I'll toss in there but we'll see soon!!  
> I love you guys, keep being awesome and kind  
> x0x0


	6. The View

* * *

* * *

It should have been impossible, being able to tune out the noisy children doing everything but the art projects they were tasked with, but Jo was able to by simply sitting at her desk, her chin braced in one palm while her other hand rolled a thick marker up and down her desk. Her mind, just like the children’s, was on everything but work.

She had not put much effort into reigning the kids in… she had been a teacher long enough to know a losing battle when thrust into one, and the kids had only one thing on their mind.

The festival that night.

There was endless chatter as young voices made plans for which games and rides they planned to meet up at.

And if Jo were honest, that is where her mind would have been as well had it been a normal week for her. She would have been in the throng of kids, urging them on in their excitement and reminding them to come by her art booth.

But this was anything but a normal week for Jo.

Monday morning after a surprisingly restful night, she had stood in the early morning hours just outside her parents’ bedroom- a room now being occupied by a recovering traveler from another world with pointed ears, a devilish scar, and a name that was frustratingly addicting the way it rolled through her mind.

Iorveth.

A long night of sleep with Asher curled up in the crook of her legs had brought her some clarity.

This guy was obviously dangerous… he’d already nearly put an end to her. Once with his dagger, and again with his whole getting shot in the middle of a storm business. And here she was, fluffing pillows and playing the nursemaid.

He could have murdered Zack for fucks sake.

For whatever reason, her brain just wasn’t latching onto the stop trusting this guy and get him as far away from your home as possible.

But it did have her hesitating outside the door.

She’d seen plenty of movies where someone wakens another person who clearly sleeps with a knife or gun under the pillow and ends up dead or at least heart stoppingly threatened. She’d already experienced that and had no wish to revisit the scene of their first encounter.

Granted she had wacked him with a skillet and had marked herself as a threat to him. All she could hope for now was that with all the lifesaving she’d been dishing out, he no longer saw her as a threat.

Course there was always knocking and announcing one’s self…

So, Jo had given a firm knock at six in the morning on Monday, announced that she needed to see to his bandages, and waltzed in with her chin up as if she wasn’t about to fiddle with a half-naked man who unnerved her with every atom of his dangerous, mysterious, and fascinating self.

She forced her legs to stay under her and moving when she caught sight of him rubbing sleepily at his one working eye… it was actually quite startling to see him even yawn a moment later. This very obviously life hardened man whom she did not doubt had taken a couple of lives with those weapons of his, had just done something has human and soft as yawn.

Of course, the moment was over in a heartbeat.

Jo could actually pinpoint the moment he became fully awake in the way his body stiffened, his gaze locked onto her and narrowed, and he sat up before she could blink.

But he didn’t refuse her when she mentioned the bandages once more.

Beginning with the smaller one on his back and having to crawl onto the bed to get behind him- something she refused to acknowledge had her cheeks a bit toastier than she’d have liked, Jo had given him a rundown of the house- and his recovery rules.

“You can wash up in the bathroom, but no shower… don’t get the bandages wet… um…” While poking at the stitches, checking that none had torn through him she couldn’t help but think how fortunate that the scar that would be left behind wasn’t going to be messing up his tattoo- but she kept that thought to herself. He didn’t need to know that she had stood brushing her teeth for far too long wondering how many leaves there were…

“Oh, whatever food, help yourself. It’s not anything fancy right now but it’ll hold you over until I can go shopping. You can explore the house and property but be careful. We don’t know who shot you so I wouldn’t wander too far. Don’t-“ Jo moved off the bed and back to in front of him, firmly keeping her eyes on her task as she knelt in a very compromising position- “mess with the animals. They’ll think you’re going to feed them and follow you around. Except for the dogs and chickens. Roscoe and Sally will keep you company. Asher- my cat will too but I’d let him come to you.”

Slowly as she talked, she peeled away the wrappings from the gunshot wound. It was red and ugly, but it didn’t look infected or have a putrid odor. “A bit swollen but otherwise I think you’ll be fine.”

When he grunted lightly in acknowledgement, Jo glanced up, her breath catching as she found him watching her.

Well damn, she had been a bit struck by the early morning sunlight coming through the window and highlighting all kinds of edges and angles across his face, but it was the way that it lit up his green eye that struck her dumb.

This wasn’t some green that people with blue eyes liked to call green… but like the ferns that grew around waterfalls kind of green.

Jo had taken a deep breath and firmly told her brain to shut it, giving her the strength to look back to the task on hand and dress the wound once more. “Take it easy today… I’m sure you know your own strength, but I’d hate to come home and find you face down in the pigpen because you were messing around and over did it.” Her voice had been perfectly businesslike- just as she wanted, and with a quick knot in the gauze, stood and left with just one small threat when she reached the door.

“I mean it, if you feel tired- sit your ass down. I’d hate to have to use magic to lug you around again.”

Iorveth had opened his mouth, an angry reply obviously just a second away, but Jo snapped the door closed and left the house as if fire were licking at her heels.

That had been the last she had really spoken to him other than a ‘dinners ready’ and ‘need to check the bandages.’ She’d tried asking what he’d done during that first day, but he had stoically ignored her and proceeded to eye the fried chicken she had brought home from the super market.

He must have thousands of questions about her world, just as she had thousands about his.

However… they just could not seem to bridge the gap between them.

Monday evening after dinner when she had turned on the tv, he had frozen for two seconds, but that had been his only tell of surprise as the previously black rectangle lit up and showed the story of a spoiled and wealthy family who lost everything and now lived in a funny little town with an unfortunate name.

Roscoe and Sally curled up on either side of her lap while she half watched the show and half did her daily texting to her family. But out of the corner of her eye she did notice Asher half lay across Iorveth’s lap and the slow, rhythmic petting he was given in return.

Tuesday had been more of the same except she took longer with the chores than she normally did. Taking a moment to watch as the cows ate and the sun set, she pondered how she was meant to help this guy return home. What she really needed was someone to talk to. Zack was great and checked up on her twice a day… but he didn’t know the first thing about researching magic. She didn’t have a great deal experience in it either except for…

A vibration from her front pocket had her plucking up her phone- a phone that had now been working flawlessly since the storm- and was grinning widely before even getting a glimpse at the name on the id.

“Nan! Just the witch I was hoping would call me.” Jo’s voice was full of warmth for her grandmother Francis. “How’s the valley doing?”

“The squirrels are plump and ready for winter. How’s the farm?”

“I got the pumpkins to the festival and everything is ready for tomorrow. I’m still blown away by the fact that Mom and Dad won’t be here for this years.”

“I think it was right foolish to run off like that. But your mom has had a fine time keeping Jason from breaking his neck doing something crazy… but maybe some sunny California rays will satisfy that need in him some.”

“I think your right. They seem to be having fun.”

Silence drew out as Jo thought about how to broach the whole situation waiting for her in the house.

“Alright honey, tell me why you wanted to talk.”

Jo puffed out a breath and turned to lean back on the cow pen and watch the house a distance away.

“What do you know about portals, or magic used to make them?”

“As those kids in the Jerry Blotter books do?”

Jo grinned. “You know very well that its Harry Potter. And sure… something like that. But instead of hopping across England… somewhere further away.”

“Well, I’ve never come across such a spell, and I definitely didn’t have much time for magical theory what with raising your Mom and everything. But I still have a few friends that are known to study it more than our family did.”

“I guess we were just content with what we had.”

“Yep. I suppose we just accepted that we had a special gift, learned what we needed to be safe, and continued on. Never wondering about the limits of what we could do… but honey, why are you asking about portals? Did something happen?”

“Now what could possibly happen out here in Willow? I was just curious…” Not telling Nan everything didn’t sit right with Jo, but she couldn’t just throw Iorveth’s secrets around any more than she had. “I need to get back to the chores Nan. Love you!”

With her disappointment that Nan didn’t know the answers right away weighing on her, Jo made a quick dinner of tacos, and went straight to bed without a word to her guest who had been equally quiet.

Now she sat in the chaos of her classroom, lost in thought.

There was so much she wanted in that moment.

She wanted to _know_ everything. About the magic that brought him here, the world he left behind, and the man himself. She had vague details like portals linking worlds with monsters and other beings. But _what_? _How?_ Had humans come from Earth to his or had they come his to Earth? And his people… he must feel-

Actually, Jo had no idea what he must feel because he gave nothing away anymore, not even anger.

“Miss Allen. Miss Allen Miss Allen Miss Allen!”

The shouting of her name over and over in her ear finally grabbed her attention and she looked up to find the hall outside her door filling up as kids rushed from her room. The final bell of the day must have rung, and she completely missed it.

With a rush she stood and tried to get the kids together in an orderly fashion while shoving her arms into her sweater.

“Alright, bus line and car line guys.” Her final Wednesday class were a group of lively second graders, but they managed to reign in their excitement enough to get in line and make their way to their respective pick up points.

A sense of anticipation came over her.

“Hello Miss Allen.”

Jo looked over to find Mr. Morgan at her side. “Oh, hello Mr. Morgan, what can I do for you.”

To her delight a splash of red colored the young man’s cheeks. He offered a sheepish grin and rubbed at the back of his neck a moment before shoving his fidgety hands into his jacket pockets. “I was wondering- if you don’t think it’s too um creepy- will your sister be at the festival today?”

Jo’s answering grin was immediate, charmed as she was by her coworker’s obvious nerves in regard to her Charlie. “Why yes. Yes, she will be.” At the relief easing the nervous tension around his eyes, a wave of protectiveness pushed aside the excitement of a possible bit of romance for her sister. “What are your intentions Mr. Morgan?”

His smile was gentle and paired with a sheepish shrug. “Call me Chris. Honorable intentions only, I promise. I am hoping to ask her out to dinner this weekend.”

Jo had to put the conversation on hold to help a student into a waiting car before she could continue. “Alright Chris, call me Jo. Let me give a quick word of caution slash encouragement because I think a bit of time out is just what Charlie needs. She’d been through a lot, and she may not even say yes. If she says no, just-“

“Back off. Absolutely. I will at least be on her mind then and if she’s interested, she’ll let me know.”

Jo nodded. “Right then. See you at the festival… and good luck!” She sensed that Charlie would be visiting her booth later that evening and Jo was already preparing her bullet points of what she knew about her musical coworker.

Thirty minutes later after the last kid left and a quick rush job on her classroom, Jo was checking through the art booth, and counting prize ribbons when her gang showed up. The festival was not yet in full swing, but it was busy enough that there was a constant buzz of activity. Evelyn, her co judge wrapped her in a warm hug and tutted about her lack of fall themed jewelry to which her friend had plenty of. Rose with her very round belly and jolly cheeks mentioned her driving need for a funnel cake as the reason behind not sharing the one on the paper plate in her hands but she was happy to share a sip of shockingly sweet tea.

Zack ruffled Jo’s hair warmly, but his gaze was searching, and she knew she had to speak to him.

“Hey Zack, will you help me bring over the canvases and tripods?” Jo asked.

“Sure, just let me-“ He risked his fingers and broke off a piece of Rose’s funnel cake and danced out of reach of her swatting hand.

“Hey! Jo, smack him!”

With a laugh, Jo did as she was ordered and drug him off to her car. “You are one brave dude.”

“Yea well if I don’t take the chance, I’ll starve.”

Jo acted out writing a note on the palm of her hand. “Zack implied his pregnant wife eats all the food leaving him to starve. Alright filing that bit of blackmail away for a later date.”

Zack paused his walk and shook his head. “You wouldn’t… alright you would. But enough pleasantries… did you bring him?”

She looked at Zack with bewildered eyes. “The guy who carries swords and bows around my house? The same one who was recently _shot_ by someone, that could themselves be here at the festival? The one who-“

“Yes, yes, that one Jo. So, you’re just going to leave him cooped up in that old house forever?” Zack asked with a roll of his eyes.

She unlocked the trunk of her car and paused a moment. “Well… no, I’m trying to figure out how to get him home. But he’s not exactly chatty Kathy so… Here carry these and drop it.” Jo shoved a box of drawings and paintings into his hands.

“How is the guy doing?”

Jo plucked up the remaining box and closed her car trunk. “The wound is looking alright from my novice perspective. He seems to be following your advice and not climbing trees or anything. Hard to imagine him doing something like that so maybe I should go with not getting into fights with the shears in the shed anymore. Yea that’s more like it.”

Zack nodded but fell into silence as they walked back to the booth. She hated being short with him but what was she supposed to have done? Brought a complete stranger from another world out to a public gathering?

Shortly after they returned, Zack took off to go check the firework launching while Rose joined her mother in law at the petting zoo. She missed their absence, but she had a contest to finish setting up and an Evelyn to catch up on the budding romance between her sister and coworker.

* * *

* * *

Idleness was not something that Iorveth was used to, and he certainly was not keen on it either. His mind told him to get up and _do_ something, _anything._ Train, hunt, take care of his weapons and armor, explore and search for enemy intel, wage war and burn the world around him.

_Anything_.

But his body reminded him every time he stood or twisted too quickly that he was a fragile and delicate flower that couldn’t withstand a simple battle wound.

Granted he didn’t really know what the weapon that had done this much pain and damage to him looked like… but it had taken his pride and crushed it to a fine powder, and every time the woman- _Josephine-_ checked the bandages, it was ground up a bit more.

Iorveth sighed as he watched the farms single horse wander around its sizeable pen and chew at blades of grass.

That wasn’t entirely true, he knew. The first two days of her kneeling between his legs to wrap dressing around his waist had been galling to say the least. He was not some milksop who needed a nursemaid. But her breath brushing against his bare skin, the skim of her arms as they wrapped around him to bring the dressing round, was oddly agreeable.

How long since he’d been unable to see to his own wounds?

Now here he was, the third day coming to a close and all he could think about was why it was taking her so long to return and do it again.

Perhaps the white wolf was correct… it had been too long since he’d bothered with the warmth of a woman so now, he was drawn to the only other person in his presence for days now. _Her_ presence, that he was surprisingly and quickly becoming accustomed to, along with all the oddities that came with this world he found himself lost in, were what was driving him to spend more and more time outside with the animals.

As it was, he was used to the outdoors, having spent most of his life without a roof over his head. So, the moment he had the strength to move beyond the front porch of the little house, he threw the little witches warning out and ventured into the wilderness around them.

Which is how he found himself becoming acquainted with the shabby excuse for a horse that was ambling toward him. Probably past working years in age but well accustomed to the touch of hands, the old horse had welcomed the brush Iorveth had found in the barn.

The menial task of brushing down the horse’s coat had brought the unexpected pang of missing his own. A warhorse he had stolen from a Temeria captain several years before the second war. Foilé, Iorveth had called him for the frenetic ferociousness the horse displayed when in the midst of battle. The grey beast was a right bastard when it came to mood swings, but he’d never let Iorveth down when it came to maneuvering through slashing swords or a rain of arrows. Or the occasional fireball from a sorceress.

He was able to admit as he spent more and more of his days with the old farm horse, that yes… he missed his Foilé. But he knew that Zoltan and the others would care for the beast until he returned.

The horse nuzzled Iorveth’s waiting hand, searching for a treat that wasn’t there.

“Apologies are in order. I have not had the strength to dig through the barn to find grains. But I will soon.”

The horse shook its head in disappointment but continued to allow Iorveth to rub its neck.

Birds suddenly took flight from a nearby tree, setting Iorveth on immediate alert as he scanned the area with all the display of a disinterested person rather than the suspicious, he most definitely was. The rest of the farm remained calm and eventually the tension eased a bit from his shoulders.

Damn but he was growing hungry… “Where is that witch?” He muttered, scanning the dirt road for what he had learned from the briefly explained device- the television- was a car that these people drove rather than carts and carriages.

There was nothing.

A surprising pang of worry came over him. What if the one who had shot him with the invisible weapon was after her as well? “Bloede.” He muttered before stalking back to the house. He refused to worry about her. She was nothing more than his keeper, someone to make sure he didn’t die of a wound he couldn’t care for himself. She did so out of pure obligation, something that was very obvious as she no longer spoke to him unless necessary.

And now she could not even be bothered to come back and finish the job!

It was the sudden round of barking followed by the knock on the door that made Iorveth realize that he’d been pacing the hallway, lost in rising anger and frustration. But he had enough of his sense to not blindly open the door and snap the intruder’s neck.

“Hello! I’m a friend of Jo’s… you might not remember me, but I helped save your life!”

Came the muffled voice of a man through the door. Thinking back, Iorveth recalled Josephine speaking to someone. The words escaped his memory, but the voices did not. But he certainly was not going to take this human’s word for it so he moved more quickly than he should have as his wounds quickly reminded him but he pushed through the sharp stabs of pain and picked up the first weapon he laid his gaze on, his bow.

Quickly knocking an arrow and aiming for the door between himself and the intruder, he waited.

“Hello? Are you alive in there?” The voice came again and a second later the door eased open.

Iorveth tightened his grip, prepared to draw back should there be any sign of a threat from this alleged ‘friend of _Jo’s_.’

A robust man with ruddy hair and cheeks peeked in, his gaze curious before quickly widening in alarm at the sight of Iorveth prepared to put an arrow between his eyes. Hands that trembled slightly shot into the air while the two dogs danced and barked with excitement.

“Hey man, I’m unarmed.” He said with a deep gulp.

Iorveth remained silent, tilting his chin up a notch to watch him better with his single eyed gaze. The arrow remained.

After a long moment of strained silence in which Iorveth could actively see the man’s thought process as he played out several scenarios. He must have picked the one where he forged on through his fear and tried to reason with death for the man finally used one of his raised hands to slowly shut the door behind him, cutting off an easy escape.

The dogs finally grew bored and trotted off to somewhere else in the house, but the cat appeared and rubbed on one of Iorveth’s legs.

“My name is Zack. Jo is my very best friend and she called me the night you were shot. Together we managed to extract the bullet and patch you up.”

His story matched up with Josephine’s recount of the events, but Iorveth wasn’t ready to lower the bow just yet. It had been much too long since he’s held the weapon, prepared to use it for its true purpose. He felt in control for the first time since his arrival and he wasn’t ready to relinquish it… plus it was damn near delightful to have a dh’oine about to piss himself in fear.

Of course, Iorveth did have to admire the bit of steel this Zack did have for remaining as long as he had so he relented. A tough at least.

“Why are you here _dh’oine_?”

Zack blinked, surprised but Iorveth could not be certain why.

“Oh, there’s this thing going on in town. The festival. Maybe Jo mentioned it?”

Giving nothing away, Iorveth remained silent. No, Josephine rarely spoke, much less mentioned the going ons of the nearby village. But he certainly was not going to reveal such a pitiful fact.

Thankfully, because the pose in which he stood with the bow and arrow raised in hand began to wear on his limited strength, Zack continued.

“Well anyways, I thought you might like to get out into fresh air, away from these four walls ya know? There will be food, games, competitions, and fireworks. Jo’s there right now, you could meet up with her…” Zack’s attention flickered from Iorveth down to the bow then back up. “There’s an archery competition if you want to watch. I’m sure with your injury you wouldn’t be up to actually shooting but… it’s fun to watch.”

Iorveth narrowed his gaze, attempting to determine if he were being baited. He felt confident he could hold his own with ease against a group of soft dh’oine peasants… it wouldn’t even be a competition if he were to show.

“Or perhaps the rodeo holds more appeal? Bull riding and bronco busting is on the rise again.”

He wasn’t certain what bronco busting was but bull riding… foolish dh’oine’s riding bulls… now that was something he was interested seeing.

He lowered the bow and removed the arrow, unable to resist the slight curl of a corner of his lips when Zack released a long breath and relaxed his shoulders, dropping his hands. The man’s gaze swept over Iorveth with poorly veiled humor.

“Those jeans must belong to Jo’s dad. Lucky for you I was a skinny kid before I married. And you might have an inch or two on me but with the pants tucked into some boots, no one will know. I’ve got a bag of clothes you can wear including a hoodie to cover your ears.”

Iorveth’s knee jerk reaction was to hold his head up proudly and refuse the offer with violence. But then he remembered that in this world, his people didn’t exist. Everyone had curved ears, canine teeth, and short lives. He already stood out with this tall frame and disfigured face… and he did want to see this _bull riding_.

“Fine.”

There was a hint of something… devious behind this Zack’s smile as he turned to leave the house presumably to retrieve the clothing. Though Iorveth couldn’t imagine what the deception could be, and he wordlessly accepted the bag and returned to the room that he slept in.

He exchanged the pants for some dark ones that were more suitable for his frame, a faded shirt with peeling yellow letters spelling out ‘Nirvana’ across the chest, a dark red shirt of heavier fabric with a hood attached- must be what Zack called a ‘hoodie.’ It had a horse rearing up on its back legs lined in white… he wasn’t sure why a horse was decorated on the _hoodie_ but as far as animal choices went, he certainly could not complain.

Forgoing his own stockings and using a pair from the back, he tucked the pant legs into the tops of black boots with laces, which were not complicated in tightening and knotting. He kept his scar covered and pulled the hood up much like a cloak. Feeling only slightly ridiculous, he left the room and found Zack waiting in the living room eyeing his sword belt.

His fingers itched to wrap it around his hips, but he settled for shoving a sheathed dagger in a boot and plucking up his bow and quiver.

“Why are you bringing that?” Zack asked warily.

It was then that he remembered that he wasn’t competing, that it wouldn’t be worth it… biting back a sigh he laid it back down.

“Habit.”

“Right…” Zack drawled before leading the way out of the house and to his car. “I don’t suppose Jo has taken you for a drive, anywhere has she?”

“No.” Iorveth opened the door using the handle like he had seen on the television and eyed the small space where he was meant to sit.

“Here let me do this-“ Zack lifted a lever and the seat slid back. It was still small but now he didn’t fear his knees hitting his chin and slid into the seat.

After a quick lesson in buckling a seat belt, Iorveth was experiencing the oddest moment of his life. Torn between fascination and a dizziness that roiled his stomach, he watched the landscape blur by. He’d been on fast horses, jumped from high cliffs into raging rivers, and sailed with storms at his back, but he'd never gone as fast as he was currently in this tiny mechanical contraption.

His hands gripped the edge of the seat, sometimes in moments of excitement, others when a curve in the road seemed to come out of nowhere.

Zack didn’t seem to notice as he continued to chatter on about this oh so exciting festival of his, about the food and the people. But the main topic he spoke of was Josephine. He divulged details such as her always wishing to be a teacher to children in the ways of artistry, their friendship, her fear of heights and spiders, as well as her love of plants and her family.

"I'm tellin ya... you should hear her lay into telemarketers trying to get her dad to pay for a magazine subscription to some i.t. outfit. Her mom got caught up in one of those tupperware selling pyramid schemes and ended up owing money instead of making it... Jo was furious when she found out."

Only half of what the man said made sense to Iorveth, but he seemed to be quick enough to not expect Iorveth to actually offer any input.

"Probably why she's so suspicious about this Cali vacation her folks won. Man, last Friday was one helluva day for her and you both."

Iorveth nearly demanded the man clarify but the car came to a sudden stop in the midst of countless other vehicles of various shapes, colors, and dustiness. People milled around them, waving and talking before moving in the same direction.

"Here we are. Let’s go find Jo. She is going to shit herself when she sees you. Hopefully at least. She has a knack for being unsurprised in most situations." Zack chuckled before ducking out of the car and slamming the door.

Iorveth frowned before following suit. He must be losing his touch if this dh’oine already felt comfortable enough to speak with such familiarity. And why would his appearance have the witch soiling herself?

Taking a moment to ensure the hood was pulled up enough to cover his ears and cast shadows across his face, he matched Zack's pace, watching those around them carefully. He knew it was unlikely that he would get a second glance, but old habits were difficult to forget. And he didn’t want to forget them. A watchful eye is what kept him alive all these years.

That and his quick hand with a blade.

As they walked the noise of music and children screeching grew louder and louder till he was bewildered as to how anyone could even hear their thoughts much less converse amongst each other.

But all around him he found smiling faces as they talked and laughed.

Small shacks were situated here and there, lining a path like a small temporary village. Some were selling wares of food or crafts. Some offered services... a child was having his face painted, while another begged their father for a stuffed animal.

Savory and sweet scents wafted to him from every direction, watering his mouth and reminding him that he had not eaten since an apple at midday.

But the sight rising before him had him stopping in his tracks. Colorful feats of machinery rose into the sky, lifting squealing humans up before dropping them. There were variations of the contraption... one that spun faster than even Zack's car could go it seemed, another shaped like a massive wheel with seats, lifting people up into the sky before bringing them back down and even one that was laid out like a road with twists, turns, and hills.

He watched as people of all ages stood in line for these rides, screamed and threw their hands into the air or held on for dear life, then exited with grins before moving onto the next line.

"Ah yes. Rollercoasters. Jo hates them." Zack said from his side, having caught sight of what was fascinating him.

"Why?" Iorveth asked without realizing he'd done so.

"Her dad is a wannabe adrenaline junkie and used to drag her onto all of the craziest rides from a young age. He kept saying she would get used to them, but she can’t stand the feeling of falling. C'mon, her booth is this way." Zack turned and began to walk away.

"Why are you accepting of this... situation?" Iorveth asked with suspicion dripping from every word, locking his gaze on him.

Zack had the good sense to drop his jovial familiarity at the severity glaring back at him. "All I know is that I don’t have the answers to explain your existence." He said with a lowered voice. "Jo mentioned getting you to your home... wherever that may be. I think she's batshit crazy for allowing you to stay in her house after you broke into it. But she is." He paused a moment before a sheepish smile split his face. "And you are the most exciting thing to happen around here. So, sue me for wanting to see you shake up Jo and Willow a bit."

Rather than voicing his appreciation of the man's honesty, Iorveth gave a firm nod before joining Zack's side and together they continued through the growing crowd.

More than once Zack was stopped with a hello, and each time Iorveth melded into the crowd to avoid introductions. It seemed he was dressed appropriately for blending in though there were fewer hoods and more hats. But other than those that were in close proximity, none spared him a second glance.

Those that did catch a glimpse of his face did so with wide eyed gazes and parted lips before turning to their nearest companions with excited whispers.

It was enough to have him roll his eye. His assumption had been correct then. If his disfigured face was enough to start gossip, then his ears would have caused an uproar.

To distract himself from the occasional stare, he would watch the giant wheel slowly turning in the sky until Zack would finish with his greetings and return to his side and continue on.

Finally, they reached the edge of a modest crowd standing around a little stall decorated with colorful leaves, flowers, and pumpkins and countless paintings of various degrees of impressiveness.

And there _she_ was in the midst of it all, pinning a blue ribbon to the shirt of a child with missing teeth and spectacles perched on her nose while the crowd clapped and lights flashed from little rectangles held in their hands. The painting with a matching ribbon was an idyllic seascape that looked similar to a hazy dream he once had, but these details held his attention only briefly.

The witch- _Josephine_ \- had cheeks brushed rosy from the brisk breeze that ruffled her hair, a smile that reached her eyes, and her attention was continually pulled in every direction. A woman covered in glittery jewelry and flowing fabrics shoved a white cup into her hands, encouraging her to drink.

She had just taken a deep drink when her gaze swept the crowd, lighting up when she recognized Zack. However, when she recognized him, the surprise had an interesting effect.

Eyes shot wide, but it was the fact that she choked on her drink and ended up spitting it on the ground while doubling over in a coughing fit while her companion hit her on the back and the crowd dispersed with curious back glances.

Next to him, Zack chuckled. "Told ya she'd shit herself."

It took effort to keep a smile from showing as the witch regained her composure and approached them with steps that made it obvious that she was not pleased to see him.

Tilting his chin up, Iorveth matched her glare.

The feeling was mutual.

* * *

* * *

Jo knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Of the two of them, Zack had been the more reckless one. She wanted to imagine how crazy it would be to skip school for a day at the beach... Zack was the one who actually _did_ it and regale her with tales of swimming in the frigid waters.

She said it wasn’t a wise idea to bring a literal _alien_ to a public place where his attacker could be lurking, and what does Zack do? Sneaks off, dresses literal alien in his old school clothes- though admittedly the black jeans tucked into black combats looked better on Iorveth than they ever did on Zack.

As she approached them, struggling to keep her temper tamped down, Jo couldn’t help locking gazes with Iorveth, and the surprising softness of mirth that glinted back at her. He was enjoying this, she realized. And it only made her more furious than before.

"Zack!" She hissed and poked him in the chest. "I told you he could be in danger here, so you ignored that and brought him anyways? Not the mentioned he almost _died_ not even a week ago! He should be resting- not dressed up in clothes from our emo days."

"Hey, you know our emoness lives on in us still..." Zack had the good grace to look a tad guilty and vaguely disappointed. "Honestly... I thought you would sense it or something."

Jo blinked and crossed her arms, shooting Iorveth a quick glance. "I have trouble sensing anything to do with him. Zack-"

"Look fine. I'll take responsibility for him."

Sighing in defeat, Jo shook her head. "No Zack... go enjoy the festival with Rose. I'll feed him and keep him out of trouble."

Iorveth spoke up with an anger touched voice. " _He_ is right here and does not require a nursemaid."

"Ok bye!" Zack chirped out at the same time and dashed off to find his pregnant wife, leaving Jo to drop her head back and search for patience until he called out again. "Archery and bull riding!" and then he was gone.

"Alright..." She shook her head and forced herself to meet Iorveth's annoyed expression. "I'm sorry, you're right. That was rude of us but please... you don’t have any money to buy a meal and I can hear your stomach growling from here. Just let me say bye to Evelynn and we can go get some turkey legs."

He was silent as she left him to rush back to a very obviously watching with rapt curiosity Evelynn as she halfheartedly cleaned up their booth.

"Don't ask. At least not yet." Jo whispered with raised hands and a shake of her head.

Evelynn's blue eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Oh, this has got to be good. Don't keep me waiting too long or I'll have to recruit Rose and Charlie into bugging Zack until he gives us the deets."

"Right." Jo puffed out a long breath. "You got this?"

Her friends glance turned sly. "You got _that_? Go get em girl."

"It- its not like that!" She knew Evelynn was only teasing but the part of her that was recognizing that she might be a tiny bit attracted to the dangerous traveler couldn’t help blushing.

"Sweetie don’t keep very tall, mysteriously dark, and sharply handsome waiting. Move along now."

Jo was shooed away until she had no choice but to turn back to Iorveth. He was watching the crowd with a panther like tension and she wondered if he had any knives on him.

A few stares followed them after she got them moving in the direction of the nearest food stand, but it was all people she'd known her whole life and were no doubt curious about the tall man at her side.

Once they had plates filled with turkey legs, fries, street corn, pumpkin pie, and big cups of tea, Jo settled them at one of the empty picnic tables. After the first edges of hunger were slaked, her curiosity finally took over.

"How was Zack able to charm you into coming... I didn’t think a tiny town festival would be your thing."

Iorveth took a long drink of tea before answering, his gaze ever on the crowd and never on her.

"It isn’t. But you had abandoned me, I was hungry. And I want to see humans trampled by bulls."

A snort of laughter escaped her and drew his attention. His very serious attention. Anger. Laughter dying off Jo shook her head.

"Your seriously angry at me? I did not abandon you. Sure, I was going to be home a bit late, but I figured you were a grown ass man and could make a sandwich if you were hungry."

"You could have told me! I waited and then thought perhaps the mysterious attacker had gotten to you. And you might have forgotten but I'm not of this world. Where I come from, I eat the food I kill or gather. Putting food in a microwave from a freezer is foreign to me." He punctuated with a large bite of turkey and dragged his gaze back to watching the crowd.

Her pride that he had picked up on modern appliances so quickly was shadowed by the rest of his rant. He hadn’t said it directly but... he had been worried for her. It was an odd feeling knowing someone had been worried after her. She did the worrying, the panicking, the checking after. She was the levelheaded one, the one who everyone trusted to know what to do so they never worried over her. If she didn’t come at the allotted time for dinner, her friends and family knew it was for a good reason and would go on with their lives.

Guilt ate at her, taking her appetite with it and she pushed her plate back with a sigh. "I didn’t mean to worry you. And you’re right- I should have spoken to you. I'm sorry." She offered an abashed smile. "If I take you to the bull riding will you forgive me?"

Iorveth tilted his chin up, a look that made him seem like a king rather than a lost and wounded nobody. It made her wonder what his life was like where he was from. He mentioned hunting and gathering so a nomad?

"I want to see the archery as well."

She probably could have guessed that one if Zack hadn’t already spoken of it. "I'm sure if there were sword throwing, you'd be all over that too."

"Sword throwing? I'm sure you mean knife."

Jo shook her head and grinned. "Nope I mean swords. Come on, if you’re done, lets head to the archery." As they disposed of their plates and walked through the crowd toward the well-lit lanes with haybale targets lined at one end, Jo couldn’t help but enjoy the companionable silence that had fallen between them.

She smiled and nodded at those she was familiar with, shivered when the chilly breeze picked up, and unconsciously moved closer to Iorveth's side. She was close enough to pick up the scent of her mom's cucumber and mint soap and she couldn’t help smiling at the realization. She hadn’t even noticed until her arms began to brush his as they walked, but he didn’t put space between them.

The cold must be bothering him as well.

Soon they found places at the edge of the competition just as the first archer took his place. He missed the center by a wide margin as did a the next few. At her side she could hear Iorveth scoff at each miss to which she would bump him with her elbow and whisper to be nice.

She'd never seen him use his bow, but she was certain he didn’t carry the heavy looking thing around for looks.

"Oh! That’s Chris! I work with him and between you and me, he's been showing a keen interest in my sister Charlie." Jo leaned closer to whisper to Iorveth as Chris Morgan walked onto the field. "I wonder... yep! There’s my sister Charlie and her twin daughters Sophie and Oliva. Oh, I hope they have a nice time... It's been awhile since my brother in law passed so it's nice to see a nice young man showing interest in her- and her showing it back. I hope it works out..."

"Well his skills with the bow are the best that have been proven as yet." He said dryly

A chuckle escaped Jo as she finally paid attention to the target. the arrows were just shy of the bull’s eye. "Indeed. It's too bad you won't be able to compete. I'm certain you could show these country folks a thing or two eh?"

At the answering silence, Jo looked up and found him walking away. For a moment she thought she had angered him again but then she saw him joining Chris and reaching for the bow.

"Oh shit, oh shit." Jo chanted to herself has she hurried to him. "Hi Chris." She muttered quickly before putting herself between Iorveth and her coworker. "What are you _doing_? You'll pull your stitches."

He leaned down slightly. "I have fought battles that lasted weeks with much worse wounds. A pitiful competition will not do me in. Besides-" He smiled- or near it she supposed- "You are quite adept at seeing to the damage."

Jo frowned at him and crossed her arms. "That doesn’t mean I want to."

With only a shrug for an answer, he left her standing at the edge. His accuracy was stunning- and fast. She had barely comprehended that he'd already shot three arrows before he handed the bow over and with a hand wrapped around her elbow, pulled her away.

"B-but don't you want to wait to see how the rest do?"

"No need. Where are these bull riders?"

Jo shook her head with bewilderment but couldn’t help laughing and taking over by pulling on his hoodie sleeve. They stopped for funnel cakes before she led him into the bleachers and found spots near the top.

She didn’t really see the appeal of people putting themselves in danger by riding poor animals that would rather be grazing in a pasture. But every so often she would glance at the man at her side and find his attention absolutely fascinated as riders were thrown, rodeo clowns quickly taking over the bull’s attention and narrowly making it out unharmed.

By the time it was over, the sun had set and Iorveth seemed mildly disappointed that there hadn’t been more broken bones and maiming but the tension that had been radiating from him when he'd arrived had melted away.

"Do you want to stay for the fireworks or head home?" Jo asked as they followed the crowd out.

He didn’t answer but she followed his gaze and found him watching the ferris wheel.

She didn’t like ferris wheel's or any carnival ride at that but- Jo realized that this must be something absolutely new to him. And truly even she could admit that everyone should experience fireworks from a ferris wheel at some point in their lives.

"Hey, so I'd really like to go on the ferris wheel... want to come? The view is breathtaking."

He didn’t answer but he followed when she steeled her nerves and led the way to the rides line. The entire time they inched their way through the wait, anxiety pecked away at her, turning her hands clammy and making her throat tight.

By the time their turn arrived she was ready to turn away and tell him to go on his own. But a large hand grabbing hers and urging her on changed her mind and before she knew it she was pressed against a warm side holding on for dear life to the hand holding hers as the ferris wheel lifted them into the sky with her eyes were pressed closed.

The cold breeze brushed away the sound of the crowd and surrounding rides and though she felt the hardness of the seat, there was a weightlessness spreading through her. The sounds of fireworks shooting into the sky and exploding, urging everything within her to open her eyes and watch.

But the thought of falling…

"You were right, this is breathtaking." Iorveth said quietly.

The awe in his voice had her peeking her eyes open and indeed. The sky lighting up with a colorful display, the stars waiting in the dark velvet sky, the way Iorveth watched them.

It was all very breathtaking.

Shit…

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hey, hello!!! Sorry for the wait. Life has been a monster. But I hope yall are doing well and enjoying the story. I felt there was some ooc in here but fuck it. I want warm and fluffy and Iorveth on a ferris wheel so thats what i did and it made me smile. I hope it makes you smile too.  
> Lets see... up next our duo keeps looking for answers and getting to know eachother as they finally begin to hold more than half conversations.  
> Till then!!


	7. For Srialleri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey crew, welcome back! I hope you are all safe and well. I've returned to work now that school is over and boy was it an adjustment. but I think im back on track with managing my free time and my brain now can form more than one thought a day.  
> So this chapter hints at a dark moment near the end but its a quick moment. Enjoy. And if your inclined, let me know what you think or how your doing.

* * *

* * *

‘How had her life come to this?’ Jo wandered as the week of strange impossibilities came to a slow setting close.

For the past half hour she had been on the front porch with a nice tea, bundled up against the deepening chill, and reading through some websites Nan had sent her, scrolling and zooming in as something promising caught her eye. They were full of interesting little bits of magic and lore, much of which she would enjoy spending more time on… but a bit of motion in the distance had drawn her attention away from the research and had her shaking her head ruefully and with a great deal of relief.

There he was, Iorveth clothed in some faded camouflage, seated atop a slow moving Bolt. She could just make out the carcass of a deer tied to Bolt’s rump.

Despite her relief, Jo’s mouth turned down at the impending sight of a limp and blood stained deer, but she should have known what she was getting herself into.

Just yesterday while eating nachos and watching a show with a hunting scene, her guest had perked up at the sight of the motley crew amid their turkey hunting shenanigans. There had been a surprising amount of questions in regard to the weapons they used and how she suspected he had been shot with one, and of course the more important question… was her family’s land an ideal location for hunting.

After work she ran by the local thrift store, stocked up on clothes that she hoped would be his size, and on impulse a set of worn camos.

He hadn’t been thrilled by any of it and was skeptical about the effectiveness of the camouflage clothing, but his eagerness to do something that was more his level of normal had his gaze sparkling and the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips.

As for her, she had been hesitant to lend him Bolt, old as the workhorse was, she hadn’t been sure if he would make it back, but Bolt had been sturdy and capable as he was saddled and the whole six feet plus of man with a heavy bow easily strapped to his back settled into the saddle.

Jo hadn’t been able to let go of her anxiety as the two escaped into the acreage, for anything could happen out there. But this time he would be prepared and if he wasn’t back by eight, she would get on the dreaded four wheeler and hunt him down again.

The dogs eagerly took off to greet him, and she was grateful that Bolt was accustomed to the noisy lot or else she might be calling Zack up to help her with a horse bucking injury.

With a sigh she eased from the rocking chair and moved to greet the successful warrior with his prize.

“You made good timing!” Jo called out while raising a hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun.

The duo and the dogs joined her by the paddock, and she took the reins form Iorveth, freeing him to dismount unburdened.

“It helped that the prey was plentiful. Does no one hunt them here?” Iorveth said but before she could answer he raised the limp head of the deer and showed her the bloody hole in its neck. “One arrow from at least a hundred paces.” Pride and vigorous exercise in a cold evening sun looked good on him.

Too good.

Finding his good humor infectious, Jo grinned teasingly. “Only a hundred? Am I supposed to be impressed?”

He shot her a narrowed eye glare before leaning down to her height and pointing at said eye. “With a _single_ eye.” Though there was nothing but growling annoyance in his voice, his good mood was still obvious.

“Ah well, very impressive then I suppose.” Jo nearly winced at how breathy her voice sounded, but when he was that close, it was rather difficult to not be a bit swept away. Especially when he continued on with the close proximity and stared into her eyes.

A mantra that she found herself repeating more and more often, especially since the festival, picked up through her mind.

‘Don’t look at his lips, whatever you do, _do not look at his lips Josephine._ ’ Everyone knew that the universal sign for ‘I want to be kissed senseless’ was to look from a deep soul searching gaze, down to a pair of kissable lips.

And that just would not be sensible.

But damn… someone with that much raw emotion within… the anger, the ruthless energy, the _control_ …

Jo bit her lip.

‘Don’t look at his lips.’

Finally, after what felt like ages and ages, Iorveth straightened and turned back to the task of unlashing the doe from Bolt’s back, but not before his gaze had flickered down to her lips for half a heartbeat.

She figured that she would need to add ‘don’t sway toward aforementioned lips’ since she followed after him by half a step and nearly bumped into Bolt. As discreetly as possible, Jo drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, bringing light to her ridiculousness.

“Is this going to take long? Dinner will be ready in a few.” Jo watched with nonchalant interest as he heaved the deer up onto a shoulder and carried it along with the rope to a nearby tree.

“Not long at all.” And true to his word, Jo watched as he tossed one end of rope over a sturdy branch and set about stringing it up with practiced ease.

She had to look away a moment later when he took a knife to it… but she looked back when his long sleeved shirt was tossed onto the fence next to her.

Quietly and with lingering eyes, she whispered to Bolt who nudged her shoulder to remind her that he was still saddled. “This is my life now.” But the thought frustrated her more than it amused her. She had to get him back to where he came from.

Josephine Allen was perfectly content with her lot in life as the caring daughter and sister, doting aunt, good for a laugh best friend, dependable teacher, and cat mom with the comfy lap. She had no illusions about love and lust.

Love could be wonderful; she had many loving relationships around her to prove such a thing was possible. But it could just as easily be the end of one’s happiness- not that she feared she was running the risk of having her heart broken when her archery inclined guest returned to his world- but it was best to not test those waters.

Iorveth took a moment to pat Roscoe on the head before throwing a stick to keep the dog distracted from the bloody mess. It was such an endearing sight, even with the mess, that Jo clenched her jaw and welcomed the irrational wave of anger.

“I’ll see to Bolt while you play butcher. Clean up before you step foot inside the house.” Jo said with just enough bite to her voice to let him know she was no longer in a good mood. It didn’t help that he replied with a distracted wave of a bloody hand. But anger and irritation were better than the many layers of eager frustration and butterflies she had been feeling just moments before.

She absolutely could not entertain thoughts of seducing him or even better- him seducing her. For one- he was quite obviously not the seducing type. She was certain that all he had to do was crook a finger and he could get whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted, no seducing necessary.

And two, she had to be one helluva low cow to think of such a thing- the man was stranded here against his will and completely at her mercy.

And three… three gave Jo serious pause while she worked on stabling Bolt and returning to the house to remove the casserole from the oven

Three, she had never had her heart broken, and she was not about to start now.

* * *

* * *

By the time Iorveth finished with the deer, cleaned up the mess of the area as well as himself, and stored the meat, he had yet to find the answer to just what he'd done to put the bite of anger into Josephine. One minute he's coming down off the thrill of the hunt, and the next the witch is stalking away with an angry swing to her braid.

Iorveth could readily admit that he had a talent for causing a rise in fury in those around him, but usually it was for a reason. He'd not made any such attempt to get a rise out of Josephine since her festival.

Pushing away the senseless prick of caring- he vowed to ignore the witch and allow her to work through whatever irritant she had. He was famished and earlier in the day while scrolling through the television shows, he'd seen one that looked promising.

Upon passing the kitchen, he found a now cold meal on the table, a section missing but only one plate on the table. A small shred of guilt stabbed at the back of his mind as he realized that he'd taken a surprisingly long time.

His feet moved of their own accord, searching rooms as he went, until he found Josephine hunched over the desk in the study, a pencil moving rapidly across paper with the use of magic while she read something on a small screen. Her cat was perched on the corner of the desk and watching him with wide yellow eyes.

Instinct had his muscles tightening and hand twitching with the need to reach for the blade in his boot before he reminded himself that slowly Josephine and her magic were proving to be of no threat to himself, and he realized that he was actually becoming accustomed to her little displays of her magical talent.

She had never used it in his presence for anything more than trivial things. A lighting of the fireplace, an opening of the door to allow the dogs to see to their business, a turning of a page. Nothing ever flashy and reeking of chaotic energy as he was accustomed to from sorceresses and witches back in his own world.

And she would need to use it to send him back to his world.

"Why are you so hostile toward magic?" She asked without looking away from her reading, breaking into his thoughts.

Stubbornly, he pressed his teeth together tightly. He had only known her a week and yet he knew her well enough to tell she was angry still. Could see it in the stiffness of her shoulders, the tap of a finger on the desk, the ruffle of loose papers disturbed by the haphazard way she was controlling her emotions.

He didn’t want to talk about his past, but a part of him selfishly wanted to see her shocked and disgusted by what her kind was capable of.

But then... she sighed at his silence and shook her head once.

"Never mind. My grandmother sent me some information on portals. some of it is promising." She looked at him at last, there was some hidden emotion in those brown eyes. "I will begin collecting ingredients tomorrow and then try practicing on small objects and short distances." After a brief silence she looked back to her research. "You should eat and then I'll check your bandages."

Silently Iorveth did as she bade. Alone, he ate a cold meal that he didn’t bother reheating. Even cold it was many times better than most of the meals he'd had before. His gaze wandered over his surroundings, the plants and pictures, the hand towels decorated with farm animals, the notes written on the refrigerator.

He recognized Josephine's handwriting- he wasn’t certain how- but he knew the 'no ocean swimming after September' was hers and he had no idea what it meant. Another note written by another hand read 'call your mother' and another one below a picture of Josephine and her sister that read 'I’m smiling because we’re sisters. I’m laughing because there’s nothing you can do about it -Anonymous.'

It was odd... the ease at which this family obviously cared for. He’d not met any of the other members of the Allen family and if he had his way- never would, but the touches of affection were ingrained into every inch of the house.

Something he was no stranger to.

With a sigh in recognition of his own selfishness and stubbornness, Iorveth set about making amends with the woman who had never done anything to earn his ire in the only way he knew how.

* * *

* * *

With one hand absently running over Asher’s fur, Jo read through the list of ingredients she’d begun compiling. There was no direct teleportation spell beyond sending one’s consciousness into an animal but experimenting with that basis might as well be a good a place as any to begin.

“A circle of amethyst purified over rosemary…. During a new moon naturally. For mental stability. Need something for thinning the fabric of reality… shit Halloween would have been great for that… perhaps a crossroads setting then…”

The moment Iorveth returned to the study, her awareness immediately went on full alert. She prided herself on not flickering an eyelash at his arrival and continued on with her thoughts.

“Blood of a raven as a binder? Hmmm- confer with Nan-“ She cut off when a steaming cup of tea was placed next to Asher, drawing her surprised gaze to a tanned hand nicked with the occasional scar, and then up to the man she was determined to send home.

Iorveth’s expression was its usual neutral but there was a healthy sun kissed color and a nice lack of tension, making his lips look softer- Jo repeated her mantra and determinedly kept herself still under his gaze, wondering just what his deal was.

He must have read the question in her eyes for he sat in a chair and took a long breath, began as if to speak before looking away and taking a sip of his own tea. It must have scalded him because he winced and quickly his cup joined hers on the desk, Asher poking his nose at them in curiosity.

Jo didn’t know much about Iorveth beyond his alien origin, and the violent livelihood he so obviously had, but she easily recognized his discomfort. He had something to say, something that was difficult, and though she was curious, she reigned it in and gave him time.

Silence was broken only by Asher’s purring, the tea cooled a touch, and the need to yawn had arrived before Iorveth finally began to speak, his voice quiet and without its usual edge, gaze resting on the two cups.

“In the house I grew up in, with my mother and- and my sister, tea was the best way to apologize. I know myself. I know I am not an agreeable person even to those I consider allies and friends. And for you… well you have been generous and err… kind. I was expecting the worst from you- still do half of the time If you allow me this moment of honesty- but it is not a reflection on you but my past. Which is not fair to you so please… accept this offer of peace between us.”

Jo felt herself melting with every word and had the greatest desire to pull him into her arms and hold him. Instead, recognizing that it was not something he would allow and that it was something she _shouldn’t_ be wanting, she picked up her cup.

Taking a deep inhale of the lingering steam, she gave him a small smile, forgetting why she was irritated with him to begin with. “Red rose with a touch of honey. Nice choice.” After a small sip, and assuming their conversation at an end, she tried to put the dangerous allure of him in a box in her mind labeled ‘off limits’ and looked back to her notes.

“Sorceresses are power hungry, cruel, and vindictive creatures where I come from. One killed my sister.”

The suddenness of Iorveth’s voice as well as the sudden topic left Jo staring at him in stunned silence. The tension was back around his lips, a loathing she couldn’t begin to comprehend simmered in his gaze and she was thankful that he was staring at the teacups rather than her.

“The keep we grew up serving was once ours- or more accurately our ancestors until they allowed the humans to take it from them. Now generations later we cleaned their chamber pots and received regular beatings for our trouble.”

Jo bit her lip to keep from offering apologies that weren’t hers to offer, for a suffering none should have to have endured. Instead she kept them to herself and waited for him to continue.

“When my sister showed signs of chaos, my mother was frantic. The human overlord fancied himself important enough to employ a sorceress for the same reason most lords and kings did so. a sign of wealth and power to those who thought to oppose them. My sister honestly tried to suppress it but there are some situations where survival instincts take over. Her burning was not punishment for maiming a worthless knight, but for having magic. Cyrena could not allow such a threat to her station to remain. If my sister had been human perhaps, she would have simply been sent away.”

Understanding him just a bit more than she had before, Jo allowed a moment a silence before picking up his now cool tea and handing it to him. The glint in his eye was of a hardened man who had wounds that went deep and likely would never heal.

“What was her name. Your sister?”

“Srialleri.”

Jo tested out the name, smiling as the sounds moved across her lips. “A beautiful name.” She closed her eyes and whispered a simple sustaining spell. Opening them once more, the light from one of the lamps winked out before a glow appeared in Jo’s hand. The light dimmed at some edges and brightened in others until it took the recognizable shape of a butterfly.

“Until my light joins the stars, guide us from dusk to dawn and back to dusk. For Srialleri.” Jo finished her spell with a gentle blow on the glowing butterfly, sending it fluttering around the room. Smiling in delight she followed its flight through the room, as it danced around Asher who gave a playful swat, as it hovered a breath away from the tip of Iorveth’s finger as he raised a curious hand.

His bewildered gaze met hers, but she only smiled and raised to open the window before turning back to the room. “Go on, explore a bit, we’ll be here for a time.” Iorveth stood and followed the butterfly as he fluttered here and there before finally escaping into the dark night. He stood at her side as they watched the light disappear into the chicken coop. “It’s a wisp. Usually created when a light is in need, all that’s needed is a bit of a power source and intention.”

The butterfly exited the coop and moved on to the stables.

“My intention was a playful bit of curiosity. It will be around, doing what curious wisps do. Exploring…” Jo looked up at Iorveth, drawing his gaze as she did. She should mind that he was so close, should mind that she wanted him to be closer. But she just didn’t have it in her to listen to her mind at the moment. “Magic is a gift to some. To others it’s a means of hurting others. For myself, I’m going to use my gift to get you to your home.

A look came over him, as if he wished to say something, but he held back whatever thoughts he had about her declaration.

Rather than pressure him, Jo impulsively gave his arm a quick squeeze before returning to the desk.

“So how good are your cliff climbing skills? We need to find some moss growing on the west side of basalt boulders.”

Iorveth smiled, and this time, Jo didn’t grow angry at her reaction to it. Instead she began a new mantra.

‘You have to let him go. Prepare yourself old girl, because its gonna hurt.’

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up, some unexpected invitations, an ingredient acquiring expedition, and a mystery arises


	8. Honey Badger

* * *

* * *

Faint rays of warmth broke through the chilly early morning, brushing Iorveth’s cheeks as he sat atop a boulder in a park somewhere near where the festival had been held, sharpening a medium sized hunting knife. The knife did not belong to him, rather it was the passed down heirloom from Josephine’s great grandfather down to her father. But if the sorceress was going to be dragging him about the countryside while she hunted down various specimens for her experiments, he needed something to occupy his hands.

Already having worked through every blade of his own- down to the points on his eleven arrows- he then took up the task of bringing the kitchen knives up to an actual usable sharpness. And then Josephine had sheepishly asked if he would do the same with the small knife she used for preparing ingredients.

A short shriek cut through the air, immediately on edge, his gaze locked onto Josephine in the distance. She was bent at the waist but twisted to look at something in the sky and wildly waving her hands about.

It took a moment for him to locate the culprit of her distress and when he saw two small birds diving at her repeatedly, he only noticed he was laughing because the sensation was unfamiliar.

“Oh sure! You can laugh! How about helping a girl out here!” Josephine cried out again before running a few paces toward him and dodging another round of sharp beaked dives.

“Don’t come this way Jo! I want no part of whatever it is you’ve done to the creatures!” Iorveth called back. “It was your idea to come out here and bother the wretched animals!”

She was close enough he could make out the surprise on her brisk morning flushed face but before he could investigate, she was attacked once more and ducked. “Damn feisty little things. Shouldn’t you be flying south for the winter!”

“If they did that then we wouldn’t be out at this forsaken hour.” Iorveth grumbled as Josephine sat next to him glaring at the birds dancing just out of reach.

“The research says a birds nest bathed in sage smoke at dawn can help send one home.”

Iorveth rolled his eyes and went back to his task of sharpening the small hunting knife. “And this is why sorcery is ridiculous. With a sword or a bow, its straightforward. Sharp and pointy gets the job done.”

Josephine mumbled something along the lines that his face was ridiculous, but he ignored the comment, mainly because she nudged him with her shoulder. When he glanced her way, she had a playful smile and it took a full three heartbeats of him watching the morning sunlight turn her eyes to molten gold before he thought to ask what she wanted now.

“You called me Jo.” Her smile grew until he could no longer bear to look at her.

“Do _not_ be ridiculous.”

Her laugh sprinkled around him, and damn him if he didn’t look over again to catch the sight of her tossing her head back. It was an honest laugh, a bit on the loud side, but… fuck his entire body seemed to react to it. He’d made plenty of the fairer sex laugh- though most of them had done so even when there had been nothing at all amusing said.

Merrigold had found him amusing but her laugh had not caused him to wonder how to make her do it again.

Iorveth closed his eye a moment and shook his head. What was happening with him? Here he was following a witch around at the crack of dawn while she terrorized birds, mooning over her bright eyes and laugh. This is what happens when a soldier is without a battle to fight.

He becomes soft.

He pressed his teeth together and determined to shore up any weaknesses within him. Yes, he would never call her anything but her given name or witch, depending on what mess she was getting herself and him into. Already feeling a bit more in control of his feelings and body, Iorveth gave a mental nod of congratulations on his self control.

And then she spoke again and tore the small wall he was trying to build right back down.

“We already established that I’m ridiculous. But… it was- my friends call me. Jo. Strangers stick with Josephine so…” She nudged his shoulder again with hers, but this time remained pressed against him, her warmth immediately spreading through his arm. “I’m glad we’re friends Iorveth.”

His stomach twisted painfully and his breath froze.

A horrible realization overcame Iorveth at her words. A sharp stab of- of _jealousy_ that had no right to be.

Iorveth didn’t want to call her what others did. He didn’t want to share some pet name with _friends_. But nor did he think of her as a stranger.

No, her laugh was too familiar for something like strangers, if he were being honest with himself. And it had been but a brief time since hearing it for the first time. Firmly, he again tried to force his thoughts back to more practical matters. _Again._

“The birds have settled but I need to get to work. Do you mind hanging out at my apartment in town today? This took longer than I was expecting.” Josephine sighed.

All he could think to respond with was a simple nod but as if it were the most natural thing in his life, he stood from the boulder and offered a hand to Josephine. Her smile was too warm and familiar, her hand slipping into his was cold but soft, and he found himself missing both when she pulled away and turned to head back to her vehicle.

Which was ridiculous as he’d just vowed to stop thinking of such things. Damn but he was a fool.

After tucking away the knife and whet stone he followed some paces behind Josephine, watching her hands sway gently at her sides. “You should wear gloves.” He said suddenly and immediately wished he could pull back the words.

“What?” She paused by the car and turned to look at him with her brows turned in quizzically.

“Your hand. It was cold. Wear gloves or you will end up ill or worse. Missing a finger or two.” He knew his voice was unreasonably snappish, and he cut off her attempt to speak up by sitting in the car and snapping the door closed.

Of course, he knew she would be next to him a few seconds later.

And the moment she opened her door, she spoke her mind as she always did.

“You’re one to talk.” Josephine snapped back, turned in her seat to face him with hands waving and eyes flashing. “Just where are your gloves hmmm? At least I will be able to fight off frostbite with magic. You however will have to hunt down some poor rabbit and turn into a pair of bunny gloves!”

Iorveth, he honestly put all effort he had into keeping his expression stern, but all he could think of was that she reminded him of the birds that had just spent the morning at war with her.

His demeanor cracked slightly. “Witch.” He growled, his lips giving in and pulling into a small smile.

A softness came to Josephine’s eyes as she answered with a smile of her own. “Scoundrel.”

“Artist.”

“Would be thief.”

“Just drive.” He ordered dismissively and looked away firmly, and while she did as he said, she did so with that damnable laugh of hers. The one that had his fingers moving restlessly against his knee as much as it had him pressing back against the seat with a sigh.

The drive to her home was quick and filled with her humming along to music. It was a tune he enjoyed much more than Jaskier’s tripe but not exactly his preferred genre either.

“This is us.” Josephine said in a sing song voice as they came to a stop before a sprawling building of gray stones and trim yards. They passed several doors before Josephine paused by one and with a jingle of her keys, unlocked the door before turning to look at him, her expression slightly harried. “Alright, I’ve got to jet. Help yourself to whatever, do whatever. I’ll swing by after work and we can go get something to take home for dinner.”

Iorveth nodded once, feeling slightly bit like a toddler being left with a neighbor, but he understood the situation enough to not add to her stress.

Josephine’s smile was fleeting and she hesitated as if she had more to say but then she brushed past. He turned to watch her go, his gaze lingering on the hurried stride of her hips before he came to his sense and stepped into the darkened apartment.

Of course there was nothing sensible about the quickening in his chest when she called out his name and he hurriedly turned back, expectation for- for what he didn’t know- he just knew his body hummed with a strange spark of excitement as Josephine jogged back to him.

“Yes Sparrow?” He asked with a bit of mockery in his voice.

“Ha. Ha. Cute.” She said rolling her eyes. “Water the plants will you? Thanks! Bye! Err- I’ll think of some pesky creature to call you later!” And just as quickly as she had come back, she took off again and this time didn’t return.

Calling his pangs of disappointment unreasonable, he closed the door behind himself and took stock of Josephine’s personal space.

Neat and clean with everything in its place, it lacked the lived in feeling of the farmhouse. There were a few family photographs but for the most part there were quaint little paintings of scenery and amusingly enough, birds. He wondered if they were works of her own.

He avoided inspecting her bedroom with more than a cursory glance for it caused imaginings of an incredibly appealing body in various states of undress and brought about bodily reactions that he had no intention of acting on. Yes, best to not linger in such a room.

Slowly he browsed the contents of the cupboards and helped himself to a box of colorful cereal, walking through the small apartment eating as he went.

Nothing of interest outside a few books, the paintings, and a television. Feeling utterly useless and closed in, Iorveth sank into an overstuffed chair and as if he had been doing it for years, clicked on the tv with the remote and put on a series he’d been watching with Josephine the last few days.

She’d claimed it would be just his type of entertainment and he had to admit, she was spot on. It had swords and wars and intrigue with a touch of magic. Other than the fact that everyone seemed to be human, it was nearly like his homeland.

As he watched one of the main characters lose his head, a knock sounded from the door, startling Iorveth more than he would ever admit. Pausing the show, he quietly moved to the door, bending slightly and deftly unsheathing the dagger from his boot.

“Hey Iorveth man, it’s me! Zack!” Came the familiar voice muffled through the door.

Iorveth opened the door to find Josephine’s friend smiling at him and walking in as if he were completely at home, leaving him no choice but to close the door after him.

Zack tossed his keys onto a table in the living room and nodded at the television. “Ah, fantastic show, but watch out for the ending.” Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes widened comically at the blade glinting from Iorveth’s hand. “Whoa what the hell?”

Shrugging, Iorveth put the blade away. “Habit. What do you mean by watch out for the ending?”

“You and your stabby habits. Spoilers dude. You’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

“Need I remind you that I have a dagger?” Iorveth threatened, immensely curious to know what was to happen in the show.

Zach only laughed and plopped down on the couch. “Reminder not needed. But trust me, you won’t want this one ruined. So… is this all you do all day?” Catching Iorveth’s narrowing gaze he held up his hands. “Not that binging tv all day is bad, it’s just that you seem the… all work and no play type.”

“I’ll admit to that certainly enough. And I have found myself doing odd tasks around Josephine’s farm. However…” Iorveth trailed off, strangely hesitant to seem insulting to Josephine to her friend.

“However, you’re not a farmer. I get it.” Zack nodded in understanding. “So, what did you do in this far away world of yours?”

Bluntly, Iorveth told Zack the truth. “I’m a soldier. I command a regiment of Aen Seidhe- my people- in the war against humans. When not in battle, I am preparing for it by training my soldiers and surviving.”

“That sounds… exhausting.”

Iorveth was silent a moment, thinking about Zack’s words. His life had been a struggle for as long as he could remember. From the days when it was just his mother, sister, and himself to the most recent confrontation with Niflhiem. A life of sleeping between watches and ambushes, of more days without meals than those with a full belly. Always looking for the next strategic throat to cut or fort to burn.

“It is.” Iorveth finally said, revealing more than he ever would have if he were back in the thick of the Scoia’tael. There was something about being a universe away from the constant life of a soldier that left him careless.

“Well perhaps there’s something about Willow that you can do. I think the tool shop is hiring.”

“I will… consider it.” Iorveth tried to remain vague but the truth of it was that he did long for a purpose. But then he didn’t know how much longer he would be there so what was the point.

“So, Jo text and said you were hanging out here today and to see if you had eaten.”

Irritation immediately flared up. “I’m not a child in need of a nursemaid.”

Zack rolled his eyes and stood from the couch. “No one would ever look at that surly expression and think you’re a kid. Jo just worries. So, have you? Eaten anything that is.”

Iorveth gestured to the open cereal box sitting on a table in the living room.

“I’ll take that as a no. Come along Iorveth, let’s get you some real food.” Zack said over his shoulder, leaving the apartment without waiting for agreement.

Lamenting silently about how harassed his life had become, humans bossing him around endlessly, but following all the same. “What about locking the door?” He asked when they stepped out into the overcast day.

“I’ve got a key, one sec.”

A small cut of emotion shot down Iorveth’s throat as Zack locked Josephine’s home before leading the way to his vehicle. It lingered, teasing the edge of his mind with unreasonable irritation that could only be jealousy.

All through the ride to a little restaurant called Margie’s, he stewed in his unhappiness. He was a proud Aen Seidhe and commander of a highly successful Scoia’tael unit and survivor of massacres. He did not get jealous, especially of human men over human women.

“I know you probably hear this a lot but you’re awfully quiet over there.” Zack said while unbuckling his seat belt. “Here put this on over your ears and eye patch thingy.”

A soft cap of knitted black yarn was tossed into his lap. Unhappy with the need but understanding why it was necessary, he slipped it on, hiding the tips of his ears.

Iorveth answered with an informative harrumph and exited the vehicle. “I have no way to pay for this.” He nodded to the restaurant door.

“No worries man. Someday after you get a job, you can treat me to lunch too.” Zack held the door open and waved him inside. “You have got to try the burgers here.”

Full of unresolved feelings, Iorveth sat in a seat where he could watch the door and every person in the building.

“Hey Zack, who’s your very interesting friend here?” A young woman holding a pad of papers and pencil asked as she came to stand next to the table. Her smile was bright and friendly, her gaze lingering and if Iorveth was not mistaken, shining with interest.

“Polly. This is Jo’s boyfriend Iorveth. Iorveth, this is an old friend from school, Polly.”

Polly’s demeanor dimmed slightly. “Jo? A boyfriend? Thought she’d settled in as an old maid.”

“Ugh don’t be old fashioned. Jo’s had plenty of boyfriends, she’s just been… busy. And even if she had, what’s wrong with that?”

Polly flicked her gaze down Iorveth again and her smile returned. “Busy indeed. Oh, nothing wrong with it, she’s just… Well welcome to Willow. What’ll it be from the menu?”

The moment Polly stepped away after Zack gave her their order, Iorveth stared at Zack. “Boyfriend?” The word was unfamiliar, but he had a suspicion on what it meant.

“Hmm beau? Guy who is courting someone? That clear it up?” Zack answered nonchalantly but with a mischievous grin.

“I am not _courting_ Josephine!” Iorveth hissed.

“Look, you live with the woman, you go to festivals with her, and do practically everything but the physical stuff. Might as well be! Besides… why _wouldn’t_ you want to court her? She’s intelligent, beautiful, has a great sense of humor, and caring to a fault.”

Iorveth stiffened his spine with a glare. “I think that should be obvious. I aim to return to my own world the moment it is possible. Forming an attachment would not be advisable as it would mean hurting your friend.” He explained in a low voice.

With a small smile, Zack accepted the drinks Polly delivered and waited for the woman to flounce away. “So, you do care.”

It annoyed Iorveth that _that_ was the man’s takeaway from his reply, and he vowed to change the topic. But there was only one thought echoing in his mind that he could think to bring up.

“Why does Josephine remain unattached?”

Zack remained silent for a time, studying him with a steady gaze.

Iorveth knew it wasn’t his business, and Zack knew it too. And if the man were to ask him why he was asking, Iorveth didn’t have an answer. He was just… curious. Josephine truly seemed to be all the things that Zack had listed off moments ago, so it left him wondering why.

“A couple of things I suppose. The biggest one is the loss of her brother in law. Charlie and Stephen had been wildly in love since grade school, like if you looked up the definition of ‘head over heels in love’ it would have had a picture of them making eyes while they both had braces, acne, and bad hair. Cut to two years ago and well- I don’t know if you’ve picked up or not, but Jo is a bit odd.” Zack raised a brow with a pointed look.

Iorveth could have rolled his eye at the obviousness of how odd the woman was but he merely nodded for Zack to continue.

“Stephen and Jo’s dad were big into anything fast. Take one bad feeling from Jo, a boat in a storm off the coast and only Jo’s dad surviving… well she watched her grieving sister try and raise two fatherless little girl while also coming to terms with nearly losing her dad. She’s become a bit hesitant when it comes to relationships. Doesn’t want to fall in love and then loose them ya know? Crazy because you can’t help who you fall in love with- it happens whether you want to or not… but enough about JoJo. What about you?”

Before Iorveth could answer, their food was delivered, and Polly hung around a moment to gossip with Zack about the happenings about the town and make eyes at Iorveth which he ignored with a bored expression. When she finally left, he picked up the conversation once more in between bites.

“What about me?”

Zack shrugged but his grin was devious. “Come on now, have you ever been in love? Is there someone special back where you’re from.”

“No.”

“No to the first or-”

“No to both. Beyond the casual dalliance, there is not time nor is it wise to form attachments. I’m quite in agreement with Josephine on this.”

Zack shook his head. “What am I going to do with you two?” He muttered before diving into his good with relish. They were polishing off the last of the fries when a strange light came to Zack’s eyes. “What are you and Jo doing tonight?”

Iorveth narrowed his gaze as he wiped his lips with a napkin. “See to work that needs to be done at the farm I imagine.”

“Oh c’mon… its Friday night! I have an idea. I’m off today with a long weekend shift coming up. You two should come over and hang out with me, my wife, a couple of friends. We’ll make a fire and grill some hot dogs or something at this spot on the beach we all hang out at from time to time.”

Iorveth balked at the thought of being around more humans of this world than he already had. “No.” He said with finality.

Finality that Zack ignored by picking up his phone. “I’m texting Jo, seeing if she wants to come. She hasn’t been around any of us since you blew into town. We miss her but-” Zack looked up from his phone, staring bluntly at Iorveth. “But I know her well enough to know that she will refuse if you don’t want to come. And Jo could use a night away from thinking and worrying so… think about it a little.”

During the drive back to Josephine’s apartment, Iorveth briskly thanked Zack for lunch, and as he watered the assortment of plants around the apartment- even the ones in the water closet- he thought back on the past two weeks.

Every day had been a constant rush it seemed in the search for answers. There were stacks of notes and baskets of ingredients gathered over the course of the last few days that Josephine hoped would be helpful in opening a portal. When there wasn’t research to dig through or bird feathers to hunt down, there was the farm to see to, and all of this was after working with a hoard of children all day.

Iorveth set the watering can next to the kitchen sink with a shudder. He could imagine the horrors such a work environment would be for anyone.

But after all the work and the research had run dry for the night, there were pleasant meals and time watching the television. Surely Zack was mistaken, for Josephine never mentioned any worries, and even so he failed to see how it was his issue.

Curling a lip slightly he put it from his mind and settled back in to continue watching the series he’d been enjoying before Josephine’s friend had upended his day. He got through several more episodes before switching it off and wandering around the apartment, eating out of the cereal box. He stopped at a window and watched a young woman push a small carriage with a child seated inside. A dog ran along a fence begging for attention with rowdy barks and wagging tail. Two men across the street waved in between unloading a large truck full of boxes.

It was all very… calm.

What a strange world he found himself stranded on. He knew it had its problems of inequality, conflicts, and changes to adapt to, but here in the moment this world seemed still.

A door slamming snapped him from his thoughts, and he turned to find a disheveled Josephine tumble through the door dragging several bags of what, he didn’t know but they seemed heavy.

“Hey! How was it hanging out here all day? Hopefully not too boring.” She called out when she caught sight of him walking toward her. He meant to help with the bags, but she dropped them on the table and began to pull out various food items. “Had a lovely snack I see.” She said with a lopsided grin at the box still in his hands.

“Your friend came by.” Iorveth replied and tossed the empty box in a bin.

“He didn’t give you a hard time did he? I asked him to make sure you had something to eat. I didn’t anticipate him bugging you about socializing with our friends.”

She moved continuously as she talked, putting away items as she went. When he noticed the pattern of dry goods in the cupboard and cold items in the refrigerator, he plucked up a few things and did the same. But his gaze lingered on the intricate details of the woman working around him.

There was a dark redness to the skin around her eyes, a lacking of spark that he could have sworn had been there the night before. Her chapped lips looked raw from biting and it occurred to him that her hair was a mess from running anxious hands through it. Just as she did the moment he finished the thought.

“There.” She said with a small sigh as she put away a carton of milk and gave her full attention to him. “So, we have plenty of time to go back to the park and take on the birds again. I think we’ll do that, stop for some Chinese on the way home, feed and water the animals, water the carrots and lettuces, and then I found a website that focuses on spiritual magic and how meditation is used to separate the consciousness from the self and I don’t really know what to do with that but maybe if the portal idea is impossible for how magic works here on Earth, maybe our consciousness can transcend space and time and we can speak with someone from your world and look for answers. What do you think?”

Iorveth crossed his arms and leaned back against a counter, regarding Josephine with new interest and attention. She truly was everything Zach had mentioned, from her beauty despite a long day harassed by children, to her kindness in trying to figure out an impossible spell to send a stranger back to where he came from.

“I think we should do none of that, and instead take up your friends offer for fire and food.”

Surprise flit across Josephine’s face and some other emotion that he could not put a definition to.

“Iorveth, we don’t have to do that. Nothing against my friends, they are very kind and accepting, but they can also be loud and embarrassing.”

Lips lifting into a small grin. Iorveth shrugged. “I have loud and embarrassing friends as well.”

Excitement chased a few of the shadows from Josephine’s eyes and he wondered at the ones that lingered- what caused her to worry so. And then again why was he accommodating her feelings… he silently decided to lock all of it away and see that Josephine has a few hours free from worrying about her promise to him so that on the morrow they can get some true progress done.

Fortunately, she did not require more convincing that he was willing to socialize with people he had no interest in forming relationships with.

“I cannot wait for you to officially meet my crew. They’re great! You’ll see.” She said while bouncing on down the hallway he had discovered earlier led to her bedroom. “I’m just going to put on something paint isn’t smeared on and doesn’t smell like playdough. Tell me about your friends!”

“Through the wall?” He asked in irritation but moved closer to her now closed door.

“Yea. Unless you want to just come in?”

Her voice was teasing so he did not take her up on the offer, but his body did take momentary pleasure in the thought. A reaction he viciously shoved to the back.

“Fine. I wouldn’t say we share a friendship such as you do with yours. More… bonds formed out of like goals and shared hardships.”

“Interesting. So, people you’ve what, fought battles with?”

“Mostly.”

“What are they like?”

He hesitated from delving into details when the bedroom door swung open unexpectedly with Josephine standing close enough he had to look down to meet her gaze, one hand holding her hair in a knot before finishing the job with a hair tie. Gone were the clothing she had worn to the school, replaced with a sweater that seemed too large for her frame but looked warm and soft.

She spared him a hesitant glance as she passed him by, and it was only with her facing away from him was he able to pick up a few scattered pieces of his dignity when he caught himself admiring her legs and other assets- which her sweater was just shy of hiding- covered with dark leggings.

“You alright honey badger?” She called over her shoulder from the kitchen where once he caught up- both with his legs and his senses- she was digging out a bottle of wine.

“Honey badger?” Iorveth queried, unfamiliar with the animal.

The grin Josephine flashed his way was mischievous, but he only had a moment to take it in before she was moving on to dig through a closet, pulling out what looked like junk to him.

“Yea you remind me of a honey badger. Fierce little things- well not little really. But they will fight anything. I’ll show you a video when we get to the beach. You were telling me about your friends? Do you mind? We’re going to want these.”

Josephine shoved something made of metal poles and cloth into his arms and tossed a couple of blankets on top.

Letting her know he was displeased with the sudden burden by giving her a narrowed glare, he listed off a few facts and details about his companions.

“Most of them are useless, but there are a couple who have proven themselves competent. Geralt is a monster slayer with a penchant for trouble. Zoltan and Yaevinn are formidable in battle. Merrigold is the only sorceress I can stomach. One of my companions turned out to be a dragon.”

Josephine’s lips parted in surprise at that last bit before shaking her head in wonder. “You truly come from a world of fantasy huh. I can’t say my friends are any of those things but if you need help moving a couch or someone to hand you a tissue and listen to your problems, they got you.”

Iorveth followed her from her apartment with his arms full. “I suppose Merrigold could move a couch, but any of the others are either likely to take an axe to it for target practice or pass out on it from overindulgence.”

While she opened a car door and helped to load the assortment of odd pieces of metal and blankets inside, she watched him with a steady expression.

“You must miss them, miss being home.”

He had neither the chance to confirm nor deny her assumption for Josephine suddenly took off running for her apartment, leaving him standing in the chilly afternoon staring after her in bewilderment wondering if he ought to follow. But she was only gone but a moment and returned holding up a couple of wine glasses.

“Wouldn’t be too classy of us to drink from the bottle now would it. Hop in badger boy, if we want to get there first, we better get going.”

Rolling his one working eye, he did as she bade and slipped into the car.

A moment later they were on their way before he could even get his seat belt buckled.

“Is this a typical competition for you and yours?”

“Yep. Whoever gets there first gets music picking rights. An ancient tradition for us.” She tore her gaze from the road to glance at him a quick couple of times before focusing on the road. “I like the beanie by the way. Makes you look cozy. Sucks that you’re covering your ears, but I get it. Hmm.”

“What?”

“I think I know a spell so that you don’t have to cover your ears if you don’t want to. Not a glamour, though I could probably cook up one of those too if you preferred, but like a deflection. People would see your ears- it could work on any body part but in this case- the ears- but they wouldn’t notice that they were extraordinary.”

“I will consider it.” Iorveth replied, mixed feelings about the idea spinning through his mind. He undoubtably took considerable pride in his heritage and weeks ago would have never entertained the idea of hiding anything about him. But he was also adaptable- he’d had to be to survive his lot in life. But while back in his own world, his pointed ears may have gotten him a dismissive glance from most, here on Josephine’s, they were an oddity that would cause questions.

“Ah damn. Zack and Rose have already made it. I hope you’re ready for lots of early thousands rock.”

“I do not know what that means. Also… what is a hot dog?”

Josephine parked next to Zack’s familiar little car and shot him a crooked grin. “You’ll see. C’mon badger wadger.”

Iorveth slid from the vehicle and shook his head at her. “I called you sparrow _once._ And your names are getting more and more ridiculous.”

With a shrug she began pulling things out the car, and he followed suit, gathering junk and blankets into his arms. “Just because you can’t do better…” The way she laughed when she caught him curling his lip in a sneer made him feel… damn near playful and he had the strangest urge to- to-

He stilled as he had a very vivid vision of him taking her in his arms, the motion causing them to fall into the grass where he took her laughing lips with his own, kissing her until a different sort of noise came from them.

“It sure is beautiful here.” Josephine said, bringing him out of the vision as quickly as it had come on but now, he was left with his heart beating faster than it had ever before.

Blinking, he took in the scenery. The cliffs were not very tall but sloped down enough that a path to the dark sand would be easily navigated. The sky was still overcast with grey clouds covering the sky and meeting dark ocean waves at the horizon. The air tasted salty and the chill was sharp with the wind but overall, not unpleasantly so.

He was in agreement, it was indeed beautiful, but Josephine was already heading down to the beach.

“Watch your step! The rocks can be slippery!” She called back over her shoulder.

Iorveth rolled his eye and followed, his ego urging him to tell her that he’d been climbing up and down slippery cliffs for longer than her world has had vehicles. But her friends had caught sight of them and were waving and calling out greetings.

Once they were both safely on the sand, he was introduced to Zack’s wife Rose, whom was with child. Knowing this he now felt like an utter fool for his small stab of jealousy earlier. Rose was kind and welcoming but her curious gaze lingered on the small bit of his scar that was visible until he turned away to drop his load on the sand.

To say he was amazed when Josephine unfolded the bits of metal and cloth into the shape of chairs was an understatement. The contraptions the people in this world had come up with never ceased it seemed.

Soon the four of them were settled around a good sized fire with blankets on their laps and sausages that they called hot dogs for whatever reason on sticks. Josephine chatted with Rose and Zack until the next few arrivals made their way down. Iorveth was officially introduced to Evelyn whom he remembered from the festival, Chris- Josephine’s coworker, Charlie her sister as well as the two nieces he recalled seeing from far away.

Soon music, laughter, and talking surrounded him. No one asked for details about his relationship with Josephine and he was simply introduced as a new friend. A glass of wine was shoved into one hand and a _hot dog_ into the other at some point. He watched as the two little girls dug in the sand just inside the ring of chairs, feeling a bit of kinship with the fatherless children.

Josephine pulled up a video of a honey badger spoiling for a fight with anything from a snake to a jackal. He had to admit that it was a fierce creature, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be called one. Better than squirrel he supposed. He could imagine Josephine’s reaction to himself being called that by Geralt.

At some point he was pulled into a discussion with Chris about the finer points of archery when Josephine’s distressed voice caught his attention.

“He did _what?_ ” She cried out and he looked over to catch her glaring at him. “We were watching that show together and you went ahead and watched without me?”

“Oh shit, he Netflix cheated on you? Toss him girl.” Evelyn said with a smirk and shake of her head.

Zack spoke up to defend a still not understanding what the hell he did wrong Iorveth. “To be fair… the show isn’t on Netflix. Can it still be called that?” Alright so not really a defense but…

“Yes!” Most everyone shouted together save Chris who only chuckled under his breath.

Under the weight of several glares, most full of mocking mirth, and one that promised retribution, Iorveth decided to fight back. “I wanted to watch it the night before but instead we watched some nonsense about baking cakes.”

Evelyn gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. “I’ll kill him JoJo.”

Rose patted Evelyn’s shoulder consolingly but everyone was laughing at the antics while Zack gave him a look full of pity.

The evening continued on with little bouts of banter between the friends and occasionally himself, reminding him of his own companions for they ribbed each other in much the same way.

The wine was of a decent quality so it warmed his blood pleasantly. At one point a song with a slow melody and sorrowful lyrics came on and he had the strangest desire to dance, preferably with Josephine, but he realized through the bit of haze that it was the alcohol giving him such thoughts.

But as the night wore on and he ended up with a child in his lap eating a sticky mess called a smore, he began to notice something strange. For one, he realized he was watching Josephine more and more, but beyond that, he noticed that she kept looking at her phone. Kept chewing at her lip. Her wine was untouched. Her gaze dark and worried.

Something was wrong.

“Sparrow.” Iorveth said quietly as he leaned close to her ear. “What is wrong?”

She turned her gaze and met his. He couldn’t help the threads of pleasure wrapping around him at the nearness of her lips to his, but he was in control enough to ignore them. Especially with the thin sheen of tears in her eyes.

“Its my parents. I haven’t um-” She took a deep breath and tried again. “I haven’t heard from them in days. They were supposed to be back tonight… Charlie hasn’t heard from them either.”

Iorveth glanced at her sister and found Charlie watching them with the same worry and fear stark in her expression.

“What do you want to do?” Iorveth asked, his attention back on Josephine.

“I want to find them.”

“You already know something.” He stated.

She nodded with an emotional jerk of her chin and swallowed thickly. “I called the hotel they were staying at. They left Wednesday morning and never came back. Their luggage and everything is still in their room.”

“When do you want to leave?” His stomach twisted strangely at the hope that shined from her eyes.

“Right now.”

Iorveth nodded once.

“You’ll go with me?”

There was so much fear in her, her body practically vibrated with it, and knowing what he knew of the last tragedy to befall her family, he didn’t even hesitate.

“I will go with you.”

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Afternoon cool Sparrows and Honey Badgers!!! I hope yall enjoyed this chapter, it was a lot of fun to write!! Thank yall for allowing me to shamelessly indulge in my wish for autumn and cozy campfires. A bit of action coming up and if I'm taking liberty with the process of searching for someone missing, please forgive me. The upcoming chapter is one I've been wanting to write since i thought up this plot baby and am ready to get right into the bones of it.  
> Gosh Iorveth is so much fun to write.  
> Yall take care, be safe, and I'll see yall soon with a new chapter where Iorveth finds himself back in his element and Jo unlocks some real potential and they both do a bit of growing.  
> ta!


	9. Pawns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey crew! Welcome back to another chapter!  
> I wanted to thank you for reading, commenting, kudoing!  
>  When I envisioned this story It was planned to be super long. And I started off with great energy in making it so.  
> And then I went back to work, to a job that is super short handed right now and super busy and because of these things, I'm stepping in to fill other positions which is fine and wonderful- but it also means I spend 5-9 hours a day in 100+ degree heat wearing a mask and interacting with others so by the time I get home, I have only one thing on my mind and thats pajammas and zoning out to recover lol. So rather than get so burned out or go months between chapters, I'm shortening the story a bit and powering through these last couple of chapters.   
> I hope you dont mind... it was only until a couple of days ago that I had my laptop open and realized that I had been staring at it blankly for a looong time, and not because of writers block, but I'm just tired. On that note... I'm sure there are lots of mistakes. Again I'm sorry.  
> So I'll continue on this little fluff piece, spice it up a bit in these last chapters, and say goodbye <3

* * *

* * *

If there was one thing Jo was truly thankful for, it was how amazing her friends and family were in pulling together. Quickly it was arranged for Charlie and the girls to stay at the farm and keep an eye on the animals while her friends promised to check on them often.

Unsure how long they would be gone, Jo and Iorveth packed a few sets of clothing as quickly as possible. She only hesitated a moment when Iorveth carried out his whole arsenal of weaponry, but he had a determined look in his eye, and she was not going to voice any misgivings.

They were starting the long drive very late at night, but Jo couldn’t stand to wait one hour later. For days this feeling had been welling up inside her, this worry that couldn’t be settled by mere text messages and brief phone calls to her parents. And she had done everything she could to stay distracted. After telling herself that she was being paranoid and silly, she would drown herself in work either at school, the farmhouse, or researching for Iorveth.

And it worked for the most part. She’d managed to have fun and live in the moment and smile back at how at ease she was with man currently buckling his seat belt in the seat beside her.

Jo was so relieved to have Iorveth coming with her. Not that she wouldn't or couldn't have taken the journey alone, but it was a weight off her shoulders to know someone had her back if her fears were realized. 

“We'll stop in town for gas and coffee.” Jo said, starting the car and handing her phone to Iorveth who took it with a raised brow. “Open the app that says maps, hit directions to, and search for Los Angeles.”

They were well down the road before he worked out her instructions and showed her the route.

“Shit nineteen hours. Well here we go.” Jo said with grim determination and focused on driving.

“A journey like this on horseback would take well over a month.” 

“No wonder portal magic is a thing there.”

“I have never experienced it but Geralt has several times. And despises it more each time he has to.”

“Not a pleasant journey then.”

“No, I imagine not.”

“But probably better than your own.” Jo flashed him a quick smile, feeling better the more they spoke.

“I can’t say if Geralt has experienced what I have or not, but I can almost guarantee that he’s been hit in the head with a frypan.”

Jo winced with a small laugh. “You would have done the same!”

“A frypan is not my weapon of choice.” Iorveth said dryly.

“Yes, I saw that.” Jo licked her lips and shifted nervously. “You don’t truly expect to use those do you? I mean best case- or rather what I'm hoping for at least- we find them soaking in the hotel jacuzzi, their phones buried out in the sand.”

“And worst case?” Iorveth asked and Jo didn't miss the gentle tone he used while bringing up something she was terrified of putting to word.

“Worst case, I don’t know, there’s too many worst cases.”

Worry and fear were bubbling up in Jo's stomach. What if they got there and her parents had been in trouble and they were too late? What if something terrible happened and she never found them-

A warm hand suddenly settled on her shoulder, quickly drawing her to glance at Iorveth, who was watching her with a serious- as always- expression.

“We will find them.”

A bit of tension slipped out of her spine, but she nodded with a firm nod, determined to stay focused on the drive.

Their pitstop was kept brief, taking only the time needed to gas up the car, purchase some very questionable coffee and a couple of sticks of jerky. Back on the road Iorveth looked through the music on her phone and selected something that had some kick and lyrics she knew by heart.

From the annoyed side glances, she was receiving, her singing wasn’t appreciated. But he didn’t demand that she stop, and she found comfort in the familiar tunes and it helped her to stay alert.

But soon her voice grew dry and the cold sludge that had once been coffee was doing little for her and she requested Iorveth tell her more about his life. He told stories that were often bloody and left her wondering just how the hell he was still alive, but they were certainly entertaining.

When the sun began to warm the horizon, she found it more and more difficult to keep her eyes open.

“I wish you knew how to drive.” Jo said around a yawn. “Or that there was a spell to keep me awake. I can put someone to sleep but I never thought about awake… that would have been useful in high school.”

“Teach me.”

Jo blinked several times before glancing over to find a perfectly serious Iorveth watching her. “Teach you? I couldn’t possibly teach you how to drive and- follow the driving laws and- and you must be just as tired as I am!”

“Stop at red, go at green, what else is there?”

“Wh-what else is there? There are speed limits and lane changes and watching for others and predicting what their actions will be and there’s still the fact that you must be just as tired! I’ll be fine. I just need to get some food and coffee.”

“Sparrow, I have regularly gone without sleep for many days at a time. Perhaps you have forgotten, but there is magic in my blood that allows for quicker healing- as you’ve seen- and increased stamina.”

“Increased stamina?” Jo couldn’t resist asking with lifted brows and a side eyed glance.

“If the humans are anything compared to the ones where I’m from, they wouldn’t compare to me.” Iorveth’s tone was even and alluded to nothing more than the topic at hand but Jo’s blood still buzzed through her veins and her breath hitched at all the images flashing through her mind.

Her blush must have given her away for Iorveth chuckled lowly. “Now what could you be thinking about I wonder.”

Jo covered her embarrassment with a huff. “If you knew, you’d change your mind.” She mumbled grumpily.

“I wouldn’t be so certain about that Sparrow.”

Iorveth spoke so casually that it took a moment for Jo to process the words but when she did, it took every bit of self-control within her to keep her eyes on the road her hands on the steering wheel. She was already a torrent of emotions, she really didn’t need any more packed on top at the moment… but it was quite the feeling- this light hearted flirtation and acknowledging that under normal circumstances, she would be more than down to explore this- this- whatever _this_ was.

The excitement in her chest however didn’t chase off the yawning and with a mumble, Jo pulled into the next gas station and dragged herself inside. A quick bathroom break with water splashed on her face, the biggest coffee for sale, and the first batch of breakfast tacos in a greasy paper sack later, she opened the driver door only to be startled by the sight of Iorveth sitting there, already buckled in.

Glancing up at her he gave her a look that brooked no argument. “For once, just trust me. I can manage demon blooded warhorses and even helmed a ship or two. I am certain I can drive this little metal contraption. Now get in, you’re wasting time.”

Jo bit her back teeth together but gave in, more than a bit ungraciously, and settled in the passenger seat with a grumble. “I could just use a spell to turn you into a toad and toss you in the back seat if I wanted to.”

“But you won’t because you see sense. I have been paying attention Sparrow, to all of the times that you or Zack have driven me around. See?” Iorveth said with feigned patience as he turned the car on and put it in reverse.

Jo nodded nervously and hurried to buckle herself in and settled in to watch him. He was a little heavy with the foot on the pedals at first, and he listened when she told him to use his blinker and wait until no other cars were coming. It was a little difficult to get him to adhere to the speed limits but when she explained about police monitoring for such infractions, he made more effort to keep to the posted limits.

As they drove, Iorveth proved himself to be more and more capable, but Jo didn’t want to fall asleep. But despite the coffee, food, and rising sun, the road was doing a spectacular job of lulling her to sleep.

“Sleep Sparrow. I’ll wake you if I am unsure of what to do.”

With a sigh, Jo slouched down further in her seat. “You are quite the driver.” She just managed to say before finally giving into her need to sleep.

She wished she could say it was restful, but it was somewhat a relief when Iorveth shook her awake and she found that they were just inside LA. 

Immediately all of her worry and panic returned with a vengeance, burning a hole in her stomach and making it difficult to breathe. 

“We’re nearly there. Would you prefer to take over?” Iorveth calmly asked.

His questions shook some sense into her, bringing on a wave of guilt washed over her. “I’m so sorry Iorveth! I didn’t mean to sleep for so long, you must be exhausted. Of course, I’ll take over.” Jo twisted her hands and watched him with wide eyes, but he shook his head and gave a small chuckle that warmed her blood.

“You apologizes are not needed. I merely asked so that you would have something to do other than sit there and work yourself into a panic attack.”

Swallowing thickly, Jo nodded. “I would very much rather be driving in that case. Pull over up there.” She pointed to an upcoming rest stop.

They took the small break to relieve themselves in the restroom and purchase some vending machine snacks. When they walked back to the car, Iorveth gave her shoulder a warm squeeze before they parted for their sides of the car. The brief touch left Jo confused and comforted. She wasn’t sure what had brought on this facet of Iorveth, and not that she was complaining but she hadn’t minded his gruff no nonsense demeanor.

But Jo was in such a state that she would take the care and gentleness with a thankful smile, take the strength it filled her with and carry on until she knew her parents were safe and sound and neck deep in margaritas.

The gps led them right to the hotel her parents had been staying at and the moment she parked the car, her worry faded into determination. She only faltered when Iorveth began to pull out his swords.

“Umm what are you doing?”

His expression spoke for him.

Jo shook her head. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to carry around weapons like that…” She said uncertainly.

“So cast your little deflection spell on them. No one will notice.”

Glad to have a bit of his gruffness back, Jo rolled her eyes but cast the spell just the same when he was finished arming himself up to the teeth. “For someone so opposed to magic…” She couldn’t help grumbling just loud enough for him to hear.

Iorveth shrugged. “Just like my sword, or your vehicle, magic is a tool. You seem to be one of the few that use it for good, so might as well.”

She knew that there was a pleased blush spreading across her cheeks, but she covered up her awkwardness with a very awkward clearing of her throat and took lead. “C’mon, the entrance is this way.”

“Do you suppose they will just allow you into your parents room?”

“Of course not, not without police involved, and I do not want them involved in anyway if possible.”

Iorveth didn’t say any more until they reached the floor where her parents’ room was and say the keycard reader holding the door snugly locked. “Alright I can pick locks with one hand and blindfolded, but I have no idea what this is nor how to unlock it.”

“First we try knocking.” Jo said with a small smile before doing just that. She thought it was a bit cute how Iorveth placed himself between her and the door with a hand wrapped around the hilt of a short sword and waited. If her parents had indeed been there and opened the door, they would have been frightened out of their minds- well only if they could see through her deflection spell.

But the door went unanswered. With an anxious glance at Iorveth she stepped around him. With a small wave of her hand and a short chant, the door swung open allowing them to step cautiously inside.

The disarray inside the room brought tears to Jo’s eyes and panic to her chest. Her parents clothing was strung across the room, the bedding ripped from the bed and furniture turned on its side.

Blinking back the tears as her greatest fears were confirmed, Jo set about looking for clues in the torrent. Iorveth took one end of the room while she took the other.

“There isn’t any blood. That is a good thing.” He said quietly.

Jo nodded and held up their phones after finding them under the bed. “Both phones, both dead. While we keep looking, I’ll charge them, and we can see if there’s anything on them that might be helpful.”

“Judging by the food rotting, this happened a couple of days ago.” 

As they went, Jo straightened up the room, tossing clothes back into suitcases and righting chairs and lamps. There seemed to be not a clue as to what happened, so she took her last shred of hope and turned to her parent’s phones.

There were photos- some of which had been sent to her, several missed calls and unanswered texts from both herself and Charlie. She had nearly lost that last bit of hope as again there seemed to be nothing to go off. But as she looked through the photos again, something caught her eye.

It was a selfie of her parents, smiling widely and each holding martinis. A neon sign - The Fiend- shone brightly behind them. But that was not what had Jo’s breath freezing in her throat. Off in the corner and out of focus was the unmistakable glow of purple eyes set in a pale face grinning with jagged malice.

“I-Iorveth… I’m sure I’m going crazy but please tell me what you see in this picture.”

Iorveth studied the picture from over her shoulder but she heard him huff. “Seems Earth has its own share of monsters and demons. If I had to guess, I would say that the demon followed your parents here and has captured them. For what reason, that I cannot say but come. There is nothing left for us here so let us try this tavern they were in when this was taken.”

With a jerk of her head in agreement, Jo led the way out of the room and searched for the bar as they waited on the elevator. It was a long drive out of the city, but the time seemed to fly by. Her mind a whirl of emotions and it took a great deal of effort to remain focused on the route.

Iorveth was just as silent as she was but where she moved her hands restlessly on the steering wheel, the few times she glanced at him, he had a grim expression and the only movement came from his circling a thumb on the pommel of the short sword laid across his lap.

“There it is.” Jo said, taking a deep breath as the little hole in the wall bar came into view. The street that housed it was nearly deserted and clearly was not on the priority list of keeping pothole free, but it didn’t come off as nefarious or as if a demon would be lurking around its alleys. But that didn’t bring her as much comfort as she had hopped.

“What is the plan Sparrow.” Iorveth asked as they sat in the car, eyes glued to the bar.

“You’re asking me?” Jo squeaked out. “This is what you do isn’t it? Fight monsters?”

“I do when necessary but I primarily hunt humans. These are your parents, this is your world, so we do this how you want. If we were on mine, we would be doing what I said.”

Jo nodded and took a deep breath for strength and focused back on the bar. 

“Alright. I’m no strategist but let’s just go in as if we’re customers, order a drink and watch.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

The bar was open but as it was still early evening it wasn’t overly crowded. It was cleaner than she had expected and gave a pleasant enough vibe for a place that Jo feared a demon lurked. Classic rock played from a jukebox and several TVs had an assortment of sports playing.

They declined the house drink and instead requested two beers and two waters. Iorveth nodded in approval as they sat at a table with a view of the entire room and they sipped at the water and ignored their beer.

For the longest time, nothing happened. Patrons came in, settled with their company and drinks or played various bar games like darts but no demons nor any sight of her parents.

Jo was about ready to call it off and go back to the car to brainstorm on where to go next when a crew of four men and one woman, all wearing white leather jackets with Eris in purple lettering stitched across the back. They marched into the bar as if they owned it and without a glance at a single person, walked through a door in the back that was labeled as employees only.

She shared a glance with Iorveth, wondering if he was suspecting the same as her. Their gazes met and he nodded slightly. Taking a last drink of water to sooth her aching throat, Jo stood from the table and went to the bathroom, Iorveth following her in. After making certain they were alone, she cast the good ole deflection spell on them and they made their way to the employee only door and slipped inside. A small office to their left and a storage room to their right held little interest. The door at the end of the hallway however…

It was beckoning eagerly for them to see what was inside.

“Be prepared Sparrow, for anything.” Iorveth said quietly and shared a quick glance with her.

She caught him by the arm, drawing him to a stop and his gaze meeting hers. “Iorveth… whatever happens, thank you for coming with me. You- just thank you.”

“Strength Sparrow.” Was his only reply before drawing a sword and focusing on the door.

Closing her eyes, Jo whispered a protection incantation over them and readied her magic for whatever came next.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door with the wave of her hand and was slightly startled to find a staircase leading down rather than a room full of demons. Slowly, with Iorveth at her back, they descended into the darkened stairwell. Anxious energy buzzed through Jo as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

As they neared the bottom of the stairwell, a laugh- full of hot glee echoed up to them.

“Took a bit longer than I’d hopped, but I am so very pleased you finally arrived.” A voice to match the laugh followed.

Jo shared a look with Iorveth but continued on into the room, unable to bite back her cry of dismay at the sight of her parents bound together and gagged in the center of a room full of junk. They were disheveled and sweaty, her mom seemed to have fresh tears falling down her cheeks and soaking the rag wrapped around her head gagging her. 

At the sight of her, both of her parents began to struggle against their bonds and gave muffled cries, their gazes pleading with her to leave. Though she felt her heart was being ripped from her chest at seeing them in such danger, Jo fought back her fear and gave them a calm smile, more calm than she felt for certain, but it helped her to face what was next.

“A touching reunion to be sure.” The voice spoke again, mocking but full of glee.

It was enough to drawn Jo’s attention away from her pleading parents to find what had to be the demon though it looked almost human now. Definitely the lone woman seen before in the white jacket, but it now seemed to be alone. It was standing in a far dark corner, watching with fiery purple eyes and a wicked grin.

“Where the others demon?” Iorveth growled out, raising his blade in its direction.

The demon shook its head with an innocent expression. “No others, only me. They were merely an illusion to draw your attention. You can lower the weapon ducky.”

“I think not.” Iorveth raised the blade a fraction in rebellion.

“What do you want?” Jo managed to ask in a strong voice, anger beginning to take over her fear.

“I wanted exactly this kitten. And to see what you do next.” The demons smile widened, showing a mouth full of menacing teeth.

“Wha-” Jo’s question was forgotten as purple flames appeared in a spiral around her parents and stretching out across the room.

“Tik-tok!” The demon called out with a shrieking laugh before disappearing, leaving chaos behind.

Thinking quickly, adrenaline taking over fear and panic, Jo cast a spell that should have extinguished the flames as she would have a candle. Naturally, even with more strength put into the spell, the flames continued on. 

An idea came to her as Iorveth moved to leap through the flames, stopping when Jo pressed a hand to his chest. Unable to look away from her frightened parents, took a deep breath. It was becoming difficult to breath as heat pressed in from all sides and smoke clouded the air, but she had to tell Iorveth what she needed him to do.

“Get my parents and get out. Get everyone out. I’ll hold the flames back as long as I can.”

“Josephine-”

She didn’t give Iorveth time to protest. Instead she began to quietly mumble an incantation, slowly raising her voice as wind began to swirl around them. Ash and embers mixed, stinging her cheeks and singing her hair, but she remained focused on her parents.

When she had gathered enough energy, Jo brought her hands together in the center of her chest before thrusting her arms wide, pushing the wall of fire to the far edges of the room.

Iorveth took the chance to follow through with what she’d said and rushed to her parents, using his sword to cut away their bindings. They remained gagged as they fought against his grip, reaching for Jo while he dragged them toward the stairs.

She couldn’t hear their cries for her over the vacuum of magic and fire, but she gave them a wobbly smile, her strength draining quickly. Her rudimentary practice of little household spells was little match for the chaotic magic of a demon, but she held the fire in check as long as she could stand.

The moment her knees hit the ground, the fire roared with rage and shot up the walls and across the ceiling, engulfing the room. 

Knowing her death was certain if she didn’t get moving, Jo crawled slowly for the stairs, her lungs filling with smoke and her eyes blurry with tears. The floor was hot, but the air was hotter, and she felt as if she were being pressed upon by a pile of boulders that grew heavier with every inch she crawled.

The stairs were just within reach, but Jo knew she was running out of time. Her eyes grew heavy and she could no longer breathe. 

Jo knew no more before she collapsed at the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

* * *

Jo was normally not a fan of summer. She enjoyed the structure of work and waking at a regular time, things that went out the window when summer was around. But as far as the summer day she was enjoying went, it was pretty damn good.

She sat beneath of leafy tree with a cold sweet tea in her hand and little sandwiches on a plate perched on her lap. Her parents were making silly fools of themselves as they played horseshoes, or rather failed at it. Her nieces jumped around a water sprinkler with the dogs while Charlie tried to get them to come over so she could put more sunscreen on them. 

Some classic rock tunes played from someone’s cellphone, mixing with the gentle breeze through the tree and chirps of the birds.

It was idyllic.

But she couldn’t help feeling like something was missing… or rather _someone._

“Where’s that fellow of yours Jojo? He was supposed to be on grill duty.” Her dad spoke up while he lined up his next horseshoe toss.

Jo frowned and studied the grill just outside the shade of the tree. All the usual choices of meat were laid out but there was no fire burning.

The thought of a fire made her stomach feel a bit unsettled but no more than the realization that Iorveth was missing. 

He was supposed to be there- she didn’t want him to leave-

Jo felt a tear slip down her cheek. 

She hadn’t been able to say goodbye.

* * *

* * *

“How’s she doing son?”

Flashes of a demon smile, angry flames, and her terrified parents came to Jo all at once, but she focused on the words still echoing around her.

The voice sounded from far away, but Jo recognized her father’s voice. It was a bit rough but the level of comfort she found in hearing it settled her.

“Breathing easier now.”

Where her father’s voice made her feel at home, Iorveth’s made her forget the burning soreness of her eyes, the heavy ache in her chest, and her overall exhaustion.

Her cracked lips pulled into a slight smile and she turned her head toward his voice, peeking open one eye. Her vision was blurry, and it took a long moment to process the little details, but first she took in Iorveth. It must have been his thigh cushioning the back of her head, as she had a lovely view of the sharp edges of his chin and jaw, the line of his neck and tattoo, and the logo to a skateboard company faded on his t shirt.

After him came the details of the backseat of her car as seen from a perspective, she had never seen it. The upholstery of the roof seemed to be sagging some and one of the flip down handles was missing… how something like that happens, she couldn’t even begin to guess.

Music played quietly, old, sad country.

Her eyes felt heavy and slid away from the missing handle back to find Iorveth watching her. 

She smiled sleepily and wondered if she were hallucinating for it seemed like she was reading relief in his expression. 

And then she noticed the dark smudges on his cheek. The red patch of skin on the side of his neck. The acrid smell of smoke.

Quickly, all at once, her aches and pains came back. Even the burning in her nose and the painful ringing in her ears, causing her to wince and squeeze her eyes shut.

“Here, drink some more of this.” Iorveth said quietly and lifted her head up as something cold touched her lips. The liquid tasted like she imagined swamp did and was a bit gritty, but it soothed everything, even her nose, as it slipped into her system.

“Jesus, she’s awake. Jo honey we’re here.”

Once done, Iorveth laid her head back on his lap and she looked in the direction of her mom’s voice and found her twisted backwards in the front passenger seat of her car, while her dad was juggling looking at her and paying attention to the road.

Relief swept the Jo with such force that tears came to her freely. “Mom, Dad.” She said with a wobbly smile and limply flung a handout for her mom to catch. Both parents were just as singed looking as Iorveth but otherwise they seemed unharmed. Tired but unharmed. “I- I remember the bar. That- that _demon._ The fire. What happened?” Jo looked to Iorveth for answers.

Her mom was the one to give them, however. “Your fine young man there practically carried us out of the bar, demanded everyone inside get to safety, and then like some hero out of one of those firefighter tv shows, ran back into the flames. We thought you were both gone… and then just when we began to give up hope, he came walking out with you in his arms.”

Jo smiled up at a still silent Iorveth. “Fine young man indeed. Thank you Iorveth… I didn’t expect nor plan for you to come back for me.”

A small smile lifted a corner of his lips and his green gaze was warm where it rested on her. “It seems to be what we do. Save each other even though neither expected the other to do so.”

Fresh tears came to Jo and she sniffed them back. “It seems so. But… why am I not in a hospital?” She looked between the three occupants of the car before her dad shifted in his seat and answered.

“As your friend- Iorveth explained it, when you went unconscious, the spells you cast on him wore off. He began to draw notice for more than his heroics. So, he carried you off to the car and we followed. Said he had some medicines that would help you more than what a hospital could- and well who were we to say otherwise.”

“And how were we to explain just what madness we’d been through that led to us being tied up down in a basement when the fire started.” Her mom finished with a shudder and an ill look coming to her face.

Jo nodded in understanding, feeling she had enough pieces to the puzzle to put it to rest for now. With a sigh she curled her legs in and turned onto her side, snuggling closer the Iorveth’s stomach.

“That sludge you gave me… a your world concoction?” She said quietly to Iorveth, growing used to the thick scent of smoke but able to pick out the slight scent of woodlands that always seemed to surround him.

“An old family recipe.” 

“Mmm. Really though… thank you for being everything that I needed. We’re going home, now right? How much further until we get there?”

A hand slipped over her hair, pulling it away from her neck. “Go to sleep Sparrow.”

She could hardly argue with that little order and was asleep once more before she could form a reply.

Jo would have been disappointed to miss the knowing glance her parents sent each other. The tenderness mixed with surprised fear in Iorveth’s expression as he watched her sleep. How she was carefully carried into the old farmhouse and laid in her bed.

Or the demon who always watched from its perch in the edge of reality, waiting for the next moment to move a piece in this little game it had created.

* * *

* * *


	10. Reach for Every Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey crew, so here's the ending. I hope you enjoyed this little story. It was meant to be kinda light hearted so hopefully you found it as such and it brought you some nice feelings. I apologize if it came off as rushed, I really cut it down to size because I know the writer and shes a total bitch when it comes to finishing WIPs. She (me) gets a new idea or gets very run down and feels overwhelming amounts of guilt and finds excuses and never finishes anything. So heres me finishing this story while I could in the small moments of brain power I could find.  
> Thank you for reading, commenting, kudoing, being beautiful yous.  
> <3  
> PS sorry for the errors. I've had 5 hours of sleep and its been awhile since I've had any caffeine and hell I'm terrible at grammar anyway so.... enjoy the commas lol

* * *

* * *

Asher bumped his forehead against Jo’s fist as she sat with her chin propped up on it. Though her arm wobbled a bit, she didn’t give much reaction to the attention her critter was seeking. Instead she gave another- her eighth in the last ten minutes if anyone were counting- long sigh and stared at the scattering of notes and various ingredients she’d collected over the weeks spread across her floor and tables.

Except for Asher, she was alone in her apartment on a mid-November evening, lamps spreading soft light across her living room aided by the sunset pouring in through the window. 

Another bump to her fist made her blink. “Sorry Asher…” This time Jo yawned and arched her back, trying to work out a few stiff kinks before welcoming the cat into her lap and running her fingers along his fur . “I’m just at a loss on what I’m supposed to do with all this. I’m not a magical scholar. I don’t invent spells and know really how to piece things together. I’m an artist and a teacher who happens to be able to cast a few spells.”

“And if I’m being honest.” Jo paused, looking at the box wrapped in shiny green paper with a silver ribbon waiting on the coffee table between an untouched glass of wine, and a jar of robin’s eggshells. “I don’t want to find a spell to send him away. Not saying I will stop searching but- I- I don’t think my heart is in it anymore. And that makes me all kinds of despicable and he deserves better than that.”

Another sigh.

A sip of wine.

And then Jo forced her mind to focus on her task.

She did quite well for a short time before the one all this chaos strung about her apartment burst through the front door, his pet name for her on his lips.

“Sparrow! Come along quickly! Put your boots on!” Iorveth called out before disappearing back outside.

Jo glanced at Asher with a bewildered frown and hopped up to see what had Iorveth so worked up. Knowing it was already cold, she slipped on a fluffy coat while she stuffed her feet into a pair of boots by the door.

Stepping outside she shivered and braced for the cold while searching out Iorveth. The sun had set, leaving behind a night sky shrouded with wintery clouds and a breeze to go with them. She was certain that they were in for a bitter winter and huddled in on herself at the thought.

But all thoughts of cold and winter melted away when she caught sight of Iorveth, bundled up in a thick coat, scarf, and ushanka. Lamp light cast a light glow on him as he stood with his head tilted back, the smallest of smiles on his lips, and snow settling around him.

He looked nothing like the furious stranger one second from using a knife on her in defense she first encountered. In the nearly three months since then, he had come from stiff and suspicious to teasing names, passionate rants about inaccuracies in sword fights on television, and an insatiable curiosity for her world. 

Not to mention helping her in rescuing her parents from a supernatural being, and her from the fire left behind. 

Naturally her parents had taken to him immediately and though she was back in her apartment and he in the small room above the hardware store he’d taken a job at, they both went out to see them nearly every day and help out with the chores. Her parents had been astounded by their story, just as she had been by theirs. The trips to the beach and the reckless bar hopping that had ended with them tied up as bait for Jo to find.

Why the demon had lured her there, Jo still didn’t understand and if it meant never encountering it again, then she was alright with never knowing.

Waking up in her farmhouse bedroom to find a slumbering Iorveth seated in the corner of her room with his chin on his chest would have nearly made it worth all the danger and fear.

Every day for the past nearly three months she had been with him, even though he no longer slept in the same house as she. They ate meals together, whether with her parents and friends or just to the two of them. Watched television, researched, or just quietly in the others company. Every. Single. Day.

And as she stood there watching him watch something as simple as the first snow of the season… she couldn’t bear to think of him not being there. Of him leaving as suddenly as he appeared or by her hand with farewells spoken but oh so much unsaid.

Jo knew how she looked at him, how she wanted him. Every part, every secret or past experience, nightmare, or dream. She wanted all of Iorveth. Her family knew it, her friends for certain knew it…

And she suspected that he did as well.

Jo could admit that it had been a good minute since someone had looked at her like he did. As if- well as if she were ridiculous the majority of the time but those exasperated single eyed eye rolls came with a huff of laughter and fond mockery. But the moments she would catch him watching her, she just felt it through every nerve in her body.

So, what was she waiting for… for the heartbreak she was already doomed to suffer? 

“Why didn’t you tell me snow would fall here?” Iorveth asked, looking her way for a quick glance.

Jo had a very strong word for the emotion she was feeling for the man who apparently adored snow. And it gave her the strength to push aside that last sliver of fear, prompting her to march up to him, fist her hands in his coat and pull him down into a kiss.

There was a brief moment where surprise stilled them with cold lips pressed together… 

Then a heartbeat later, as hands encased in knitted gloves softly brushed her jaw, gliding over the skin and sliding into the hair at the back of her head. A gasp escaped into the night air as in unison their lips parted.

The moment became consumed with the overwhelming taste and feeling of warmth of _him._ The feel of his tongue brushing against hers, tracing the line of her bottom lip before nipping at it gently in response to her escaped moan.

With the barrier of puffy coats, scarves, and gloves, it was rather frustrating not being able to comfortably wrap her arms around his waist.

Jo didn’t want to be the one to pull away first, because if she were honest, this was something she had wanted for a very long time now, but she had a need that was quickly outpacing her need to have his mouth tangled with hers.

“I need you inside where we can get rid of these damn coats.” Jo said breathlessly against Iorveth’s lips, a thrill of desire making her ache when she opened her eyes and found a wicked gleam in his gaze. One that matched his wicked smile.

“I was rather enjoying the first snowfall.”

Biting back a knowing grin, Jo stepped back and patted his coat covered chest. “Well I was hoping to continue this, preferably in a bed. With you over me.” Jo dredged up her best attempt at coyness, with a drop of her gaze to his scared lips. “Or me over you. Or perhaps from behind, I’m not particularly choosy at the moment. But…” She turned away and though her legs were trembling- a bit from the cold but more from the beginning stirrings of desire- made her way back to the apartment. “If you’d rather frolic with-”

The rest of her sentence was lost to a squeal of surprise as she was suddenly lifted with two sturdy arms and swept into the apartment.

* * *

* * *

With a long bodied stretch and a sigh of contentment, Jo curled into Iorveth’s side, every moan, growl, and glide of skin against skin replaying through her memory. 

Though they had both found long awaited satisfaction in the others body just moments before, she was looking forward to the next time and the next after that. She’d created a barrier within her mind that refused to allow her to acknowledge that this wasn’t forever. That the man in her arms wasn’t truly hers, that he belonged to another world and she had promised to help him return.

Not when every part of her being cried out that this was real. This was meant to be.

Tightening her arm across her waist, Jo shied away from the fleeting thought and instead counted his heartbeats against her cheek.

“What is it?” Iorveth asked, his voice coming from deep in his chest.

Jo turned her head to rest her chin where her cheek at on his chest and watched the snow flutter against the darkness outside her bedroom window. 

“Why snow?”

Iorveth followed her gaze to the window, watching with her a moment before replying, a hand trailing along her spine. “When it snows, everything stops. When I was a lad, the fieldwork was paused- there were plenty of despicable reasons why- we were no good to the masters if we died from frost bite of chilled lungs- but it didn’t matter to us. When it snowed, my sister and I could imagine we were in a faraway land untouched by war and famine. An artic and forgotten land where only the bravest could venture. Of course, we usually ended up wrestling in the drifts and catching colds despite the threat of punishment.”

Jo angled herself to smile down at him, loving the faraway smile that curved his lips. But then it dropped away, leaving him looking haunted.

“It was also a break from war. If kings were wise, moving their soldiers in the winter was not advised.”

Knowing his life was in constant danger in his own world frightened Jo and brought her already conflicted heart ever more strife. But she had to be brave and lock away the fear, for though it broke her heart, she would not break her promise.

“How did you spend the winters, in between… battles?” The word stuck to her throat, but she was eager for a glimpse of his life.

He glanced at her; his expression steady. “Take what we needed from villages and leave them burning at our backs.”

Jo let the words settle on her shoulder, what he didn’t say, echoed through her head. She wasn’t blind, she knew enough of war and the soldiers that fought in them to know that most committed atrocities they would have to carry with them for the rest of their lives.

And from what Jo understood about Iorveth’s kind, he had lived a long life already. Where moments before his expression had been one of pleasure and tenderness, there were shadows and a grim coldness that reminded her of the early days of his recovery at the farm.

Within her there was no room for appalled rejection. This man beside her who had likely done things she would never ask him to tell her, had lived a hard life and fought for the rights of his people. Something that was a never ending war in her own world that she hoped to someday see the end of. 

So she didn’t give disgusted looks or call him out as cruel and a murder, but instead shifted up until she could hold his head to her chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his shaggy black hair that she’d been after to trim for a couple of weeks now though she secretly loved the rockstar look it gave him.

“I love you.” Jo whispered. Pouring the words, she couldn’t say into those three.

He didn’t repeat them, and Jo didn’t expect him to, but instead he tilted his head back and pulled her into a deep kiss that quickly took over the moment. And lasted for a good while longer.

Though the evening had grown late by the time they were sated for the moment, hunger drove them into flannels and slippers and out to the kitchen where Asher stared with narrow eyed disproval at being kicked out of the bedroom for so long while Jo pan fried some sliced turkey and cheese as Iorveth spread condiments and vegetables on thick slices of toast. He’d been quite resistant to the thought of sandwiches and things like honey mustard, but it quickly became one of his favorite foods.

Once settled in the living room, plates stacked with hot sandwiches, a show on the telly with a couple of demon- and sometimes witch hunting brothers- something Iorveth found immensely amusing- Jo remembered a little box wrapped and waiting by the still untouched glass of wine.

“Oh!” She cried out as she snatched it up and shoved it into Iorveth’s lap.

“What’s this?” He asked bewilderedly.

“Open it and see.” Jo could barely contain her excitement as she waited for him to set aside his plate and tear into the paper.

He opened the small box to find a shiny phone just waiting for him to turn it on.

Surprised green met eager brown.

“A phone? For me?”

Jo nodded and plucked it out of the box and turned it on for him. “Yep. You have a job, friends, me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I could send you a quick text to tell you some random thought I had or wanted to show you something funny. It’s not the same if I try and remember it till the end of the day…” Jo drifted off as his expression remained guarded. “Is it… too much?”

Iorveth didn’t say the words she knew he was thinking. That this was something too permanent. He didn’t say anything at all, just stared at the screen coming to life in his hands.

Panic rose in her chest and Jo swiftly looked for a way to gloss over the meaning behind the gift. “Please don’t take this as a sign of me giving up on sending you home… As- as you can see, every day my living room becomes more and more chaotic as I try out something new and I swear I’m close to a breakthrough, it’s just taking longer than I thought. Hell, it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be and you’ve started to build a life here an-and-” 

Iorveth’s lips on hers silenced her and the half eaten sandwich and phone were momentarily forgotten as she was dragged over into his lap.

When he finally pulled back a fraction, watching her as he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, there was a deep wave of emotion across his face that brought the sting of tears to her eyes.

“For weeks now I’ve tried to find a way to tell you to stop.”

“Stop? S-stop what?” 

“I’m tired Sparrow. Tired of the battle I had to wage each day just to make it to the next. And it’s a life that I’ve found I don’t wish to return to. I had grand dreams of eradicating the human plague- no offense- from my homeland. But there was a time before that were, I wanted a different life. And while I haven’t found that exact life here, I’ve found enjoyment in working at the shop, creating bows and arrows, and then teaching the villages youths how to use them. I’ve found contentment in dinners at the farm where your mother spoils me and your nieces make up imaginative stories for my scars. I’m saying… maybe not forget the experiments to travel across realms for I would like to see my err- _friends_ and my homeland again someday. But perhaps just to visit, and have you go with me and maybe-” 

Jo watched in wonder as in the midst of this heartfelt speech, the tips of Iorveth’s ears turned red. This war hardened soldier with scars and the deadly aim of Horace A. Ford, had turned slightly bashful before her eyes.

“-if this works between us, and we continue to build a life together, then perhaps our children could see where they came from.”

Jo told herself to keep her cool, to not freak out and start imagining weddings and babies- both of which were far off indeed. But something she wanted more than anything, but only with him. 

So, though she was vibrating with a mixture of relief and excitement, she pressed her brow to his and closed her eyes.

“Deal.”

* * *

* * *

In the early morning hours, Jo couldn’t say what woke her. Was it the never ending nightmare of her and Iorveth spinning through the cold vacuum of space, both reaching out to the other but never able to join? Or the sound of cruel laughter that seemed to be echoing around the corners of her room?

It took her a moment of brushing sweat and hair from her face before she realized that it was Asher hissing and growling from the foot of her bed, his attention locked on a shadowed corner where she swore she saw the flash of a gleaming and sharp toothed grin.

“What’s wrong Asher?” Jo said with a scratchy voice. 

Asher didn’t pay her any attention, so she reached for Iorveth to wake him but found his spot in the bed empty.

“Iorveth?” Jo called out. When he didn’t reply, she eased from the bed with a tired sigh and pulled on her robe to fight off the chill.

Unease turned her stomach as with each step she took, she found that there was no Iorveth.

Remembering his new phone and hoping that he had remembered to take it with him, she hurried back to her bedroom where she snatched hers up and quickly tried to call his. A vibrating sound came from the other side of her bed and she stepped around it to find his phone on the floor.

“Alright, don’t panic. Sure, he’s never left like this, without word. Maybe…”

What followed was a series of phone calls where Jo called family and friends, waking them at obscene hours to ask if perhaps there had been something that came up and Iorveth was over there.

They all said no.

Dressing hastily, Jo sped over to his little above shop room, used her copy of the key to enter but found no Iorveth. But startling enough, all of his armor and weapons were gone.

No armor, no swords, bow or arrows. And no matter where she looked- the farm, the ocean cliffs, the tool workshop, there was no Iorveth.

At first, having finally returned home when driving every street and knowing that he couldn’t have walked beyond the town in such a short amount of time, Jo had been mired in numb disbelief.

She’d sat in her living room, replaying the night over and over in her mind, wondering where she could have driven him away.

But it always came back to the memory of him whispering in a voice full of hope, that he wanted to stay. He wanted a life. With her. Here.

And she trusted that he meant it.

So then what the _fuck_ happened?

Jo scrubbed her hands over her face, fighting off the urge to break down into panicked sobs for the eightieth time, and tried to force her brain to function.

The facts- some unexplainable _something_ plucked Iorveth from his planet and dropped him on hers. They have a few bumps with unexplained bullet wounds, demon kidnapping her parents and almost burning her alive, but otherwise had become thick as thieves. 

While Zack was her best friend, Iorveth had become her _best_ friend, someone that she couldn’t imagine not seeing every day even though she’d taken on the duty of insuring that that exact thing happened.

And then just when they’d crossed incredible barriers and finally allowed themselves to hope and plan for something more together, he disappears.

Did that unexplainable something pluck him up again and return him to his home world?

_“What do you want?”_

_“I wanted exactly this kitten. And to see what you do next.”_

The memory of that horrible day came back to her, clear as crystal. That demons familiar grin that seemed to always be lingering in the corner of her eye.

Jo didn’t consider herself to be anything above average in intelligence, while she was well read and could hold her own in trivia, she didn’t have anything to brag about. But there was something satisfying as pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place for her.

It sent her diving into research, grateful that it was a weekend as she spent hours delving into everything demon.

Demons of mischief in particular as that seemed to be what was the point of all of this. Chaotic mischief.

But now that she had a likely culprit, what exactly did she plan to do about it?

There was not a chance that she was going to give up on Iorveth, not when she’d just found him, and they had just barely brushed the edges of their ‘what could be.’ 

And this is where she took inspiration from television and book alike.

One thing the tv show had gotten correct, summoning demons was possible. And if Jo had her clues straight, she knew the demons name as well.

And something that a certain magical book series got correct, the magic of transfiguration. 

With cold determination, Jo made room in her living room for the summoning spell and the transfiguration spell, for the second on would need to be cast quickly if her plan were to work.

“Hello Eris.” Jo said in a voice that came out stronger than she felt, still shaken that she had actually managed the spell to summon the demon and in its confusion at suddenly appearing before her, had turned it into a roach and sealed it in a glass jar with wards around the tightly screwed on lid.

A voice, familiar and menacing whispered through her mind. “How did you learn my name little witch?”

“It was across the jacket you wore when you tried to kill my parents.”

A laugh tinkled through her mind. “Ah you are a clever one. Now set me free before I tear you into a thousand little pieces.”

Jo kept her spine straight and her gaze locked on the roach in the jar. “If you could have, I’m sure you would have. You wanted to know what I would do next well this is it. Return Iorveth, or-”

“Or what?” It hissed. 

“I’ll place this jar with you inside of it, into a box which I will magically seal. Then I’ll put that box in another box and again seal it up. And then I’ll wrap it in chains and weights, hire a charter out into Pacific Ocean, find the deepest trench I can, and drop you into it. Where you’ll be until the sun boils the ocean away in about five billion years. How about that?”

There was a long pause before the voice whispered through her mind again. “Very creative… But no, I don’t thing I will little witch.”

The anger, fear and tears that Jo and tried to keep in check since waking to find her lover gone threatened to consume her and she shot to her feet. She had only taken one step toward one of the heavy metal boxes she had prepared to carry her threat out with when it spoke again.

“But there is nothing stopping you little witch from retrieving that which I took.”

“Explain while I grab the first box.”

“I’m certain you figured out long ago that all your efforts to find the spell to open portals is nigh on impossible here on this sad magically dead planet. But I can grant you the gift so that you can travel between worlds at will.”

Instinct screamed at her not fall for the demons lies but she couldn’t help the bit of hope…

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because you have impressed me. I did this as a way to break the unbreakable, and while I’m certain keeping you and the other separated by the cosmos would break you if I did indeed betray you, I have been caught by surprise indeed. You did not accept your plight just as he has not either. Why right this second, he is hunting down his oldest friends’ daughter in hopes that her extraordinary power can send him back to you. And while I do love a good tragedy… sometimes- but very rarely- a happy ending for all can be just as satisfying as watching everyone throw themselves from cliffs in grief.”

“Charming.” Jo muttered. “Say that I agree. What is to prevent you from messing with our lives again?”

“I will have moved on. So many planets, so much chaos to cause. While I will always hold the two of you in my heart as the time I went soft, I will not be in this corner of the universe for again millennia at least.”

Jo stared at the roach for a long moment, thinking over the most important decision of her life.

“What say you little witch? Ready for the power to rescue your lover from a life of searching for you?”

“Deal.” Jo said as she plucked up the jar and began to remove the lid. It had barely cracked open before she was blinded by a brilliant light, a stabbing pain from temple to temple, and then there was nothing.

* * *

* * *

Before Jo knew it, sixteen years had come and gone. In all that time since taking her first steps in a wild and dangerous new world, stumbling across some knife happy Scoia’tael and trying to convince them that she really was known to one of their own, a reunion that left all watching, including an intimidating man with yellow cat shaped eyes, very astonished. Returning home hand in hand and continuing on with that dream of creating something more. 

And each year, taking a “vacation” where Iorveth, Jo, and the four children that made up their family, packed up and walked through stars to catch up with friends and to just explore their rich ancestry. 

Jo watched as her youngest daughter tucked a stuffed white dog into her backpack- a gift for Geralt as thanks for the wooden sword he’d given her the previous year, and her oldest daughter strapped a quiver to her belt.

Those two were definitely her husband’s children, with their green eyes and midnight hair.

And it was her two magical sons who took after her but for the slight point to their ears.

An arm wrapped around her waist and she looked up to find Iorveth watching her with his usual expressionless face except for the gleam of happiness in his gaze. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go.” She replied with a nod.

“Children! It’s time!” Their father called out, waving for them to gather around.

“Wait! I don’t have my cloak!”

“Yes, you do, you’re wearing it you idiot!”

“Can we go now? I want to show-”

“Just cast the spell Sparrow.” Iorveth grumbled lowly, no doubt mentally rolling his eyes as it was difficult when one only had a single eye to roll in exasperation.

“Adventure awaits!” Jo cried out and with a blinding light, cast the spell whisking her family away to a land of castles and dragons.

The land of their father’s.

* * *

* * *


End file.
